Come Find Me
by kayleighchaos093
Summary: Mr. Darcy is in a chaotic emotional state just a week after his failed proposal to Elizabeth Bennet. When he takes his frustrations out on a midnight ride, he comes across an upturned carriage, only to find the one and only Elizabeth injured inside.
1. Found

Mr. Darcy was not one for expressing his feelings openly, and his shy demeanor was often mistaken for one of arrogance and pride. He had only two confidents that he could trust wholeheartedly. His sister, Georgiana, was all that was left of his immediate family, and his love for her was evident even to complete strangers, though they did not often acknowledge their depth. It was his second confident, his cousin Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, who stumbled upon a crumpled up piece of paper, clearly meant to have been burned as it laid mere inches from a crackling fire.

Richard was never one to pry, but this past week had been a confusing and hectic one. Darcy had made a sudden decision to quit Rosings a week earlier than intended. HE had insisted Richard need not accompany him back to Pemberly, but Richard was no fool, and he knew his life long companion had disturbing things on his mind. Here was a letter, evidently in Mr. Darcy's hand writing, and he was sure it held all of the answers he was seeking in regards to his currently inebriated cousin.

Feeling terrible for the invasion of privacy, he uncrumpled the letter and read:

_Mother had always told me that keeping a diary is like having a friend to tell all of your secrets to, and never having to fear them being passed on. That was when I was 12, and I am still not so sure that this is necessary, but I am finding my emotions out of control at the moment, and though I trust Richard more than this dusty old book my mother entrusted to me all those years ago, I cannot bear to admit my weakness. _

_Looking back on the situation now, I can see that I handled it in a most despicable way. My arrogance was everything she had accused me of. I had flattered myself that she would accept my hand, even after I insulted her entire family. I am well aware that I am one of the most sought out bachelors in England, and despite her low connections and vulgar family, I cannot reign in my feelings, and I find myself only wanting to be sought out by her. _

_How surprised I was to learn that not only does she feel exactly the opposite of me, but she did something no other woman would ever dare, or want, to do. She turned me down. _

_Our argument still pains me to think of. But I will not go over the particulars here. Frankly, I am having a hard time trying to organize my thoughts for this insignificant piece of paper. _

_What shocked me even more than her rejection was how I felt about it. At first I acted rationally, as anyone would. I became furious with the false accusations she threw at me, and I remained furious for the better part of the night and following morning. As calm as I felt handing the letter to her, knowing that that the letter was all I could do to change her opinion of me, scared. The emotions assaulting me were both familiar and unfamiliar. My heart seemed determined to batter its way out of my chest and throw itself at her, because as usual I was stunned by her expressions, the way the light danced in her hair, her brown eyes…_

_But there was the fear that she would never forgive me. I am accepting of the fact that we will never marry, but I would at least like to be considered a favored acquaintance, as opposed to the lesser favorite in comparison with George Wickham. _

_The realization of losing her forever is more than I can bare. I would love to be able to completely forget her and all the trouble she has cost me. Yet still I find myself awaking with her name on my lips, my heart still pounding and my eyes watering from the dream that would never come to its blissful end for me. Perhaps it is my way of preventing hope that someday my dreams would become reality. _

_I thoroughly intend to burn this now, as my body and emotions are betraying me once more. I knew my love was deep, but I have not cried since my mother died. It is shocking to me, yet seems strangely fitting. _

_I will strive to think of her no more, and I know this will be in vain. I will not ask for the flames to eat away at her memory like they will with this letter. This letter that I have written for no one but myself, and I fear that it has not conveyed a tenth of the emotion I feel right now. I must write these words down, for I can not scream them from my garden as I long to do. _

_I love you with my heart and soul, my mind and body. I love you with an aching in my heart that tells me that despite propriety, I must be with you no matter what. This same aching tells me that this will never be, and I must, and will, live without you. I love you my Elizabeth. _

The letter was sighed with a dried tear drop, crinkling the yellowed paper. Richard was shocked beyond belief, beyond words. Had this not been in his cousins unmistakable handwriting, he would believe it a forgery. Darcy was in love with Elizabeth Bennett? They were so different, and Darcy took his position in society seriously, to a point where it was ridiculous. He must really be in love if his feelings were altered so.

Richard threw the letter into the fire, determined that no other prying eyes should see it. Then he cast his eyes to the ceiling, where just above, Fitzwilliam Darcy was dreaming….

"_Elizabeth," He breathed into her ear. His whole body was on top of hers as he ducked his head for another passionate kiss. _You are doing this in the wrong way Darcy. _He told himself. He couldn't really bring himself to care enough to stop however. She was willing and even as excited as he was. When he kissed her neck he could feel her pulse, and when she looked at him, he spoke the words he needed to say before this went any further. _

"_Je vous aime vous fera m'épouse cher Elizabeth?" he begged. She nodded rapidly, leaning in to steal another kiss he willingly gave. _

"_Venir la découverte me" She said to him in a husky voice, and he opened his eyes to look at her questioningly, when all of the sudden she was not there. He was supporting himself on his elbows over an empty bed. He ran his hand along the sheets where she had been, and they were cold. _

_He jumped off the bed with a strangled cry and turned to his left to where the window was located. There, running down the front path with her hair down, dress muddy and damp, she looked exquisite. But she was running away from him. _

"_Elizabeth!" he cried in despair._

"Elizabeth."

Her name had escaped his lips just as easily and naturally as breathing, and he sat up in his bed, trying not to recreate the scene he had so exquisitely dreamt up in this very room.

He wanted to remember the dream before it slipped away, like most did. He had asked her to marry him… in French. Odd. He hadn't spoken French in years.

She answered him in French. 'Venir la découverte me' She had said. 'Come find me.'

As much as the invitation enticed him, he knew that the dream Elizabeth and the actual Elizabeth wanted two completely different things.

Despite his better efforts over the past weeks, he could not forget her and never expected to. A part of him didn't want to forget her, but he mentally recoiled from the pain just her name could bring to him. Not even in sleep could he find an escape.

Darcy was determined to exhaust himself to the point of dreamless sleep, and he tried this everyday. Evidently today he had not succeeded. Taking no notice of the time, Darcy quickly dressed and very nearly ran to his front door. 'come find me.' She had said. He was doing the opposite. He was running away.

He found his favorite steed, Agaue and mounted him quickly. Agaue was fast as he had ever seen in a horse, and right now he needed the speed to wipe his mind clean.

Darcy dearly hoped these two am rides wouldn't become a habit.

He urged the horse to move faster, faster then he had ever pushed him before. He knew not how long he was riding, but it seemed ages, and the sun was just beginning to rise when he suddenly realized that he had gone in a strait path west.

Another sleepless night for Mr. Darcy, and now the sun was rising. The sun reminded him of her, and it pleased him and pained him at the same time. Was he ever going to be free?

He slowed to a gallop as he rounded the bend of an old dirt road infrequently traveled, briefly considering finding a stream for Agaue to drink and rest up before the long journey home. You could imagine Darcy's surprise when a break in the trees revealed an overturned carriage about a half mile up the winding road.

Concern for its occupants, a welcome distraction to his current thoughts, overcame his hastily made plans to revive his horse, and with a loud 'ya!' he propelled Agaue to follow the road and make it to the capsized vehicle in record time.

Quickly dismantling, he observed the scene quickly. The carriage seemed vaguely familiar, and hoped that someone he was acquainted with was not in any serious danger. He had no knowledge of what transpired, or when, but he knew it was his gentlemanly occupation to help. (and she had accused him of not being a gentleman! Absurd!)

He briefly wondered where the horse or horses pulling the carriage had gone.

He had no difficulty opening the upside-down door, the glass was shattered and glittered in the brilliant morning sun. Perhaps they had vacated in search for help?

He knocked before looking in, then realized how preposterous that was, bent down to better observe the situation inside—and nearly cried out in surprise and angst.

There, on the roof of this carriage, now on the ground as opposed to being in the air, laid the woman of his every thought, dream, breath…. Broken, bleeding, and with no sign of life.

Elizabeth Bennett was clearly on her way home from Rosings, but her dress was in ruins, hair covering half her face and caked in blood, having clearly sustained a head injury, along with many others.

"Miss. Elizabeth!" He cried out, crawling into the carriage with her, turning her onto her back to look up at him. "Miss. Elizabeth!" he tried again, checking her pulse. He was no physician, but he was positive a heart should not beat so slow. How long had she been out here, hurt and bleeding?

She moaned slightly, opened her eyes and looked at him with an expression of confusion, before she lost consciousness once more.

Trying hard not to jostle her, Darcy scooped her into his arms and carried her while crouching, causing his leg muscles to roar in protest, but he cared not. He needed to get her help as soon as possible.

Mentally promising his horse all the carrots he wanted when they arrived back at Pemberly, he somehow managed to get himself and Elizabeth onto him.

"Je vous ai trouvé mon amour" He whispered to her as he directed his horse north to the nearest town. _I have found you my love. _


	2. Sleeping Beauty

_Ch. 2 Sleeping Beauty_

The parlor of the one and only Mr. Waide was bright with sunshine and the sounds of lively children could be heard from outside. Everything about this setting was in contrast to Mr. Darcy, who had not stopped pacing since he had carried Elizabeth in at the crack of Dawn. He was miles of home, improperly dressed and working on about an hours worth of sleep, but he did not care at this point. This was the home of the physician Frederik Waide, a proficient and the best doctor in Derbyshire. Darcy was merely grateful that circumstances had landed the tragic accident within miles of his home, a mere fifteen minutes on horseback.

The sunlight clashed with his dark mood, the musical laughter of children was an ear piercing dissonance.

He thought he had paced a rut in the floor when finally a door to his left opened, and Mr. Waide appeared with his hands clasped behind his back. "Mr. Darcy." He said, nodding his head in respect to the superior man in his presence. "It seems that our young Miss. Bennett has had major blood loss, and I would suggest that she be on bed rest for at least two weeks, and drinks many liquids to help replenish her blood supply. Other then that and the few stitches to her upper forehead, there is not much more we can do for her."

"But will she be okay?" He asked, not trying to mask his concern that was just too overwhelming to be considered normal. Anyone would feel concern for a young woman in peril, but it was clear to the young doctor that Darcy's attachment went beyond a few pleasant exchanges in a parlor.

The doctor hid his knowing smile well, and said "We cannot rule out amnesia, but it doesn't not seem likely that she will forget more than the incident, and perhaps a few weeks prior. If we are lucky, there will be no memory loss at all, but as we have no way to inspect the mind, nor do we fully understand how it functions, I can give you no clear answer."

Darcy thanked the man, and resisted the urge to see her himself.

A couple hours ago, Darcy had dispatched one of the doctor's footmen to send a letter to Colonel Fitzwilliam, vaguely explaining his absence and that he would need the carriage sent to the doctors home post haste.

Now as he gazed out the window, his personal carriage with the Darcy crest painted on it pulled up to the front door, awaiting its newest occupants. With a pang, Darcy realized that he and Elizabeth could have been sharing this carriage under such different circumstances, had she accepted his hand.

Usually, a patient would stay in a guest bedroom at the physician's house until conscious, but unfortunately Darcy had happened upon the doctor and his family on the same morning they were planning on leaving for the Lake District.

Two footmen carried Elizabeth into the carriage making sure she was comfortably situated, even though she would not be awake to express her opinion on the matter of discomfort. Darcy smiled a small smile when he thought of her reaction to being treated quite unceremoniously.

He solemnly followed the two men and Elizabeth to his carriage, after thanking the doctor profusely, and promising a hearty payment upon his return to the district, as this was one of the rare occasions that Darcy had no money on his person.

He hesitated outside the door of his carriage, wondering briefly if he should sit atop with Mr. Hansley to allow the young woman her privacy. But the draw of watching her while she slept too peacefully, and uncaring of the utter inappropriateness of his decision, he took the bench opposite her sleeping form, closing the door and tapping the roof in a signal to be on their way.

He thought to himself that it was a wonder what one simple marriage rejection could do to a person. He was utterly transformed. He had spent nearly two days after handing her that letter picking apart her brave speech against his character, and trying to decide what was justified and what was not. He had felt wholly disappointed and ashamed with himself when he realized that most, if not all, of her accusations against his character were based on fact. One such was that he was arrogant and conceited. Had he not gone into that room, boasting to her that he was in love with her against his better judgement? And then after insulting her so completely, he fully expected her heartfelt acceptance of his proposal.

Yes, he was a changed man indeed. Two weeks ago, no matter what his feelings were, he would have forced himself to ride outside of the carriage, but here he was now, watching her peaceful form with a small frown on his face. Why would she not wake up?

The long ride home was excruciating. In his early morning ride he had managed to become fifty miles away from Pemberly in a roundabout way, and the ride was even longer in a carriage. The whole time he watched her, hypnotized by her even breathing, readying himself each time she stirred, sure that she would wake and want to be removed from his presence immediately. The thought stung him most profoundly, but he still could not help studying her.

He drifted to sleep with the sway of the carriage and the sound of her even breaths lulling him to a state of semi-consciousness. For some reason an old English song his mother used to sing to his sister in French came to him, and he found himself softly humming along to her melodic voice that only existed in his head now.

_I wonder, I wonder_

_I wonder why each little bird has a someone_

_To sing to, sweet things to_

_A gay little love melody._

_I wonder, I wonder _

_If my heart keeps singing, will my song go winging_

_To someone, to find me_

_And bring back a love song to me._

Not realizing he had been humming loud enough to disturb her, Darcy nearly jumped out of his skin, when a soft moan escaped Elizabeth's mouth. He opened his eyes to see her raise a hand to her forehead, her eyes squeezed tightly shut against the light.

"Miss. Bennett?" He asked cautiously, and he saw her physically stiffen at the sound of his voice. She seemed to be curious enough to brave the bright light, and opened her eyes but a fraction to focus on him.

"Mr. Darcy?" she asked, seeming extremely confused, but not angry to see him. He felt relived, but soon stifled the feelings, knowing that she was not herself at the moment and could easily still harbor feelings of resentment towards him. "What happened? Why am I here?" she was extremely confused, and his heart went out to her.

"Do not be alarmed madam," he said in his most soothing voice. It was odd to speak to her so formally, when his thoughts concerning her were far from what was deemed appropriate and acceptable. "You were in a carriage accident. I intercepted you early this morning, and brought you to a physician. You are in no immediate danger, but you are to be on bed rest at Pemberly for the next couple weeks."

Her eyes widened at the thought of being trapped in his home for such a time, and her only consolation was that it had been he who found her, and not a common scoundrel intent on making her bend to his demands.

The relative shade they had been driving in provided by a vast expanse of trees finally broke, and the sunlight being let into the cabin was suddenly much brighter. Elizabeth unwillingly let out a strangled moan and hid her face from the usually welcome sun.

Darcy unthinkingly reached over and pulled the shades down. They were heavy ones, designed for when he was on a lengthy trip and required a peaceful nap during the day. Now the two of them were cast in near darkness, and he was well aware of that fact.

There was something about the dark that made him feel brave, and without thinking, his arm reached out to brush some of the hair that was clinging to her forehead due to perspiration away. But just before he made contact with her skin, something he had been longing to do since their dance at the Netherfield ball, he pulled away and cleared his throat, thankful that she had closed her eyes once more so that she did not witness his moment of weakness and impropriety.

"Please forgive me for my frankness Miss. Bennett, but may I inquire what you were doing as far north as Derbyshire? Surely you have gone right through Hertfordshire after your departure from Kent, and was that not your destination?" He was after all curious. Darcy had not been thinking strait this morning when he found her, and had assumed she was on his way home from Hunsford, but that made no sense. Derbyshire was completely out of the way.

So she naturally surprised him by saying, "Am I not in Kent anymore?" for anyone other than Elizabeth, this would be extremely stressing news, to learn you have no recollection of departing from a place and winding up so far from home, but she handled the news calmly, all things considered.

"Ah, Mr. Waide said you might experience some memory loss. What is it you last recall Miss. Elizabeth?" he asked politely, trying not to look at her so much anymore. Although it was entirely wrong to stare at her while she was asleep, it seemed worse while she was awake. This was probably due to the fact that she could insult him and twist the knife she already had even deeper into his heart.

"I was walking under the trees reading a letter…." She paused, and it had an air of awkwardness to it. "It was a letter from you Mr. Darcy."

"Ah." Was all he could manage to say. The letter she was referring to was the only one he had ever written to her. Well, written and delivered anyway. He detected no hostility, but he still must not let his guard down. She could very well not remember much about their argument, what had started it, or even the contents of the letter.

His last utterance hung in the air for a while, her discomfort nearly tangible to him, and he was decidedly happy that they were only twenty minutes from their destination now. He told her so, and she replied politely enough.

They spoke not a word except for when the carriage stopped outside of Pemberly doors. "Are you well enough to make your way to your temporary chambers Miss. Elizabeth?" he asked.

"I am sure I can manage Mr. Darcy, I thank you." Her tone was civil, but with an unexplainable edge to it.

"I will escort you up." He said, as he stepped out of the carriage, and offered her his hand to help her out. The sun was not affecting her as badly as an hour ago when she first awoke, but she still seemed to be in pain, and he wanted to make sure she was comfortably situated as soon as possible.

He offered his arm, and she took it, unable to deny that she was shaky and her balance more than a little effected.

"In what kind of situation did you discover me Mr. Darcy?" she asked quietly, looking around his house in true awe. In one of those increasingly frequent pangs, he knew that all of this could have been hers. Does she know that, or does she remember nothing of his professions of love and proposal of marriage? Would that be a good thing or bad thing?

It was decidedly bad. That would leave her opinion of him as bad as it was before, it would mean she would blame him for Jane's unhappiness and Wickham's supposed misfortunes. Does she still blame him if she remembers all, letters included? Never did he think he would see the day he was jealous of George Wickham, but it has come. He had, and may still be a favorite of hers after all.

"Mr. Darcy?" she inquired again, breaking him out of his thoughts, and he suddenly remembered her inquirer.

"I regret to inform you that I found you alone and bleeding in a capsized carriage along a nearly forgotten road close to the boundary of Nottinghamshire. I assisted you to the nearest physician." He need not explain that she had not been awake for any of it, or that he had held her a little too tightly and intimately on the ride into the nearest town. She did not need to know that.

Elizabeth nodded, seeming confused. "I wonder why I find myself in Derbyshire?" she asked, more to herself than anything. We were nearing the top of the first flight of stairs, and I felt her pace starting to drag a bit.

"Miss. Elizabeth, are you sure you are feeling up to the journey to the third floor?"

"The third floor?" she asked, her tone indicating mixed emotions. Was she surprised that his home was as large as this, or was it merely doubt that she would make it so far?

Of course, he could have her situated on the second floor without a problem, but he selfishly wanted her close to him, so that he could assist her in anything she might need. He wanted to dote on her, keep watch over her, and protect her. What better place to do that then from the room situated down the hall from his own? Generally the third floor was primarily for family, but many of the rooms have not been occupied for a while.

Then her feet she started to sway, and they stopped walking. It only took him half a second to make up his mind, and he bent down to scoop her up by knocking out the back of her knees. "Forgive me Miss. Elizabeth, but I see no other alternative. You must get to your room, and I must write to your family as soon as possible, assuring them that they need not be concerned for your health." His words came out in a rush that sounded like he was not only trying to justify his actions to her, but to himself as well.

She said nothing, just held her form stiffly in his arms. She must really be exhausted as her resolve slowly melted, and the movement of his body as he carried her up another flight of stairs and down a hallway made her sleepy. Her eyes closed, and when he looked down, it took his breath away. Elizabeth Bennett had just fallen asleep in his arms, and it felt so right, looked so right, he never wanted to leave this moment in fear that something more ugly and disappointing, like Elizabeth's true repulsion towards him, would rear its ugly head and strike him once more.

He brought her into the rose room, and set her on the plush bed with the sheets turned up invitingly. He placed the blankets over her sleeping form, and crossed the room to ring the bell for a servant. He stood, back strait, hands clasped behind him and an appropriate distance away until the servant showed.

"Please bring a pitcher of water and empty glass to be set on Miss. Bennett's bedside for when she awakes. She is under doctors orders to drink as much liquids as possible, and I would like her to have a speedy recovery." He commanded in his authoritative voice. Of his many tones, his 'Master of Pemberly' voice, as Charles Bingly liked to call it, was the most intimidating. The servant bowed and hastily returned with what Darcy had

requested, and retreated from the room. If he found it odd that his master was staying in the room with the young women, he showed nothing in his expression to show it.

When he was positive they were quite alone, Darcy crossed the room and finally did what he had been longing to do. He softy ran the back of his hand across her cheek. Her skin was soft and silky, and he longed to hold her head in his hands and memorize every contour, but he knew it was risky just to be doing this. So he backed away to the door, and just before shutting it, he looked at her and whispered to her in French once more. He didn't know what was compelling him to speak in French, but it strangely fit with the circumstances. _Sweet dreams sleeping beauty_

---%--{(()

"Dear lord, it is not true!" Richard gasped with a fake appalled expression on his face at what he had just witnessed. "Fitzwilliam Darcy, a romantic!?" he exclaimed.

Darcy turned to face his cousin, chagrin washing over him, but he held his composure. "I have not the faintest idea what it is you are taking of Richard." Darcy said, closing her bedroom door softly.

"Come now cousin, you just rescued a damsel in distress, carried her up a flight of stairs and bid her fair dreams in French. You, my dear sir, are in love." Of course, he already knew this, but to admit to his cousin that he had read the private diary entry meant to be burned was not something he was willing to do.

Darcy's only reply was to turn and head towards the stairs. Colonel Fitzwilliam was right on his heels. "Was that not the notorious Miss. Elizabeth Bennett? Whatever happened to her?" he decided a slight change of subject might be more welcome to discussion by his cousin, and he was correct.

Darcy explained the entire morning he had had, of course leaving out the reason he had fled the house so early in the first place. "She knows not how she came to be in Derbyshire, but as far as either of us are aware, she departed Hunsford but two days ago." He explained to his cousin. He was on his way into his office Richard could tell. Darcy was to write to the Bennett family (as much as he loved Elizabeth, Darcy was loath to start a correspondence with any of them) and explain their daughters situation and that she was in good hands and could stay as long as necessary.

Richard followed him to the door. "Well, it is a good thing that you were able to come to her aid then cousin, otherwise who knows who or what could have found her. I only wish I knew the cause of such an occurrence, and where the driver, horses, and possible other occupants are."

Darcy agreed. "Yes, I have alerted the authorities in both Derbyshire and Nottinghamshire, as the disturbance happened on the border of both. As of this instant however, it is our duty to see to it that Miss. Elizabeth recovers well, and then we will see to investigating."

Richard nodded his agreement, and then added cheekily, "Yes, I am sure you would like to put all of your attention and energy into your fair sleeping beauty primarily of course."

Darcy blushed a little once more, but the colonel just laughed merrily, and walked down the hall, calling something about Georgiana and how she should come and stay to keep Elizabeth some sisterly company. The word 'sisterly' was not lost on Darcy, and he was not sure if he was more amused or annoyed by his cousin's cunning perception and ability to find humor in all situations.


	3. Dinner for Two

Chapter 3: Dinner for Two

Darcy slammed his glass onto his writing desk of his office, and stood up in fury. It was late afternoon of the same day he found his dear Elizabeth. He had watched her fall asleep in his arms mere hours ago, and no maids have yet alerted him of her rousing. The inactivity was shifting his focus from assisting her, to trying to discern how she had come into such a situation at all.

If she had departed Kent with the other half of her party, Miss. Maria Lucas, where was she, and was she in any immediate danger? It was possible that Miss. Lucas was left at her home as the carriage carrying Elizabeth home had undoubtedly made its way through Hertfordshire to make its way north. He inwardly cursed himself for not asking after Miss. Lucas in his letter to Mr. Bennett, now surely halfway to Longbourne.

His anger had started to build when he began to dwell on the fact that one of these two things happened: Either the carriage had overturned by pure accident, but then, where was the driver? He must have deserted Elizabeth on the side of the road, or the carriage accident was premeditated and whoever caused it took the driver hostage. But why leave Elizabeth behind? Had they believed her dead?

Trying to calm himself, he sat once more at his desk and began writing a letter to his sister, which was usually one of the activities that gave him joy.

_My dearest Georgiana,_

_I fear that my arrival in town has been delayed due to the fact that we have a rather _

_surprising, albeit welcome, visitor. I have found myself host to a woman in need of a few weeks recovery under my watchful eye, and I hope it will give you great pleasure to tell you that I will be sending cousin Richard to escort you home to Pemberly. You expressed in your last letter you're longing to be home once more, and I am happy to be obliging._

_The woman is an acquaintance I made during my stay with the Bingleys in Hertfordshire. Her name is Miss. Elizabeth Bennett, and I shall explain more upon your arrival. That is, if Colonel Fitzwilliam does not tell all first. I am sending this letter with him, so prepare to leave swiftly my dear. I hope to see you soon._

_Your loving Brother, _

_Fitzwilliam_

He sealed the letter shut, and left his study in search of his cousin. He walked in a more brisk pace then necessary, and despite his utter lack of sleep, he found himself craving physical exertion.

Knowing his cousin all too well, he found him in his favorite chair besides the fire in the library. Richard looked up and closed his book. "Ah, not standing in the hall with an ear pressed to her door, eh Darcy?" he asked teasingly.

Darcy was still not going to let his feeling on to his cousin anymore then he mistakenly had. Although it did please him to realize that Richard did not disapprove of the match, or he would not be joking so lightly about it.

Ignoring his comment, he handed the letter to his cousin. "Would you be so kind to deliver this in person to Georgiana?" he inquired as Richard took the letter.

"Ah, dear Georgie, I have not seen her since Christmas. Am I to bring her to Pemberly to meet the charming Miss. Elizabeth?" Darcy merely nodded in reply, peeved at his cousins knowing teasing. The Colonel laughed merrily, and stood to stretch his arms. "I will leave immediately then cousin. Please do try not to make your feelings too obvious, or else you will create the biggest scandal this household has seen since Mr. Darcy senior wanted to marry the sister of, and associate the family with the ruthless Lady Catherine."

Darcy chuckled a little, reminding his cousin that he was of Darcy's mother's side of the family, therefore Lady Catherine was his blood relative.

"Yes well, I like to pretend other wise."

Darcy was curious as to how his cousin had discovered his disposition concerning Elizabeth, but as he handed Georgiana's letter to him, he simply said, "Thank you Richard." His cousin seemed to understand the double meaning in his words, and once he quitted the room, his presence was replaced by one of the numerous maids.

Her name was Sophie, and she was the newest hire of Pemberly. Darcy made a point to know all of his help by name, and he greeted her as such.

"Mr. Darcy." She curtsied, and he nodded his head in returned greeting. It was uncommon for one to be so courteous with their servants, but despite appearances outside his home, he was never one to be rude if a person was undeserving. He strived to remain civil and obliging, making him an uncommonly kind Master. "Mr. Darcy, Miss. Bennett has awaken."

"Thank you Sophie," Darcy said, moving out of the library immediately. The maid curtsied once more, but he did not notice.

())}--%----

Elizabeth had awoke to an unfamiliar yet exceedingly comfortable bed. She took in her surroundings and was absolutely positive she was in the most elegant and lavish room seen in her life. It exceeded even that of Rosings,

She had a dull head ache and she felt extremely tired. She wasn't aware of her overwhelming thirst until she turned to see the pitcher of water and empty glass next to it. She was shocked to find just how weak she felt, and very nearly spilled the water onto the beautiful rosewood table.

After successfully drinking three glasses, she thought back to all she could remember.

With a blush, she recalled Darcy's proposal, and her harsh rejection. His letter had followed, making her exceedingly ashamed of all she had accused him of. Although not entirely convinced he was completely innocent where Jane was concerned, she saw now the extreme pain she must have caused him in admitting his sister's weakness and near tragedy with George Wickham. He was not the man she had once thought he was, and his more recent actions only strengthen her new found conclusion.

In a mysterious phenomenon, her memory is blank after her last day with the Collins', and returned with Mr. Darcy's concerned face. It was all a blur to her, but she remembered opening her eyes to see him, a vague scene of disruption surrounding him.

Then she had managed to remain awake long enough to have a civil conversation with him in his carriage.

Elizabeth was not sure how she felt being rescued by the great and noble Mr. Darcy. How he could be so generous to her after she had insulted him to such a horrifying degree was astounding to her. Her pride would not allow her to feel anything more than gratitude, and once her recovery was over, she planed to move out quickly. She was all too aware that just a week or so ago he had proclaimed his love for her.

Lizzy saw a door to her left, and curious, she weakly got up to discover where it led to. The door didn't make a noise as she opened it, and she thought that it was evidence of his wealth that even the guest bedrooms have their own parlors. Her house at Longbourne had only one general parlour, and one dining room. She wasn't not jealous per say, but her thoughts took an ironic twist when she realized that at this moment it could have been possible for her to call this room her property in the near future. A life married to Mr. Darcy would not have left her wanting material items.

She glanced around the room, taking in it's furniture. There was a table with four elegant chairs, obviously meant for private dining. An ornate fire place sat nestled in the center of the opposite wall, in front of which was sofa that looked extremely comfortable to her.

"Miss?"

Lizzy jumped at the sound of the voice as she crossed the room. So lost was she in her thoughts, she had not heard or seen the maid enter.

"Sorry to frighten you Miss. Are you feeling well?" the young girl inquired. Lizzy replied that she was feeling as well as possible, which was a lie, but she hated showing weakness. In truth, her head was pounding, and she felt as if what little sustenance she had in her was threatening to make a grand reappearance. The maid wrung her hands nervously. She was obviously very young.

"My name is Sophie. Mr. Darcy assigned me to help you with whatever your needs may be. But I am also under orders to make sure that you rest. The doctor said it is prudent you do not over exert yourself."

Lizzie knew right away that her recovery wasn't going to be easy for her. Did they expect her to stay inside for two weeks? What utter nonsense. She had a hard time being confined to a house, let alone a single room.

"I was just going to admire the furniture." Lizzy explained. Her lightheadedness was starting to make the room spin, so she walked around to sit on the couch. Sophie curtsied and said that she was going to alert her Master that Elizabeth was awake. Before she could protest, the maid was gone, and Lizzy was left to sit in the silence with just her thoughts for company.

Two weeks confined in a house? With Mr. Darcy?

Lizzy groaned out loud, already anticipating the awkwardness that was sure to occur.

---%--{(()

"Miss. Elizabeth?" he called through the door. A few seconds later, the door was opened to reveal a stunning young woman with her dark tresses falling over her shoulders. She greeted him properly, and he noticed with a pang of guilt that she was still in her dirty blood stained clothes from when he had found her. She seemed to realize this at the same time, for she blushed and looked away.

Before he could stop himself, he said, "Forgive me for my lapse in judgement. I should have realized you would need a change of clothing. You are about the same size of my sister, Georgiana, and I can arrange for the things you need…" He trailed off when he realized that he had spoken too boldly. He was silent for a moment, looking for the words to say, for she offered none.

Another idea came to him that she must be starving. On that matter, he had not eaten anything all day as well, and it was nearing dinner.

"Miss. Elizabeth, you are supposed to be resting," he said gently, trying to mentally work up the courage to ask to dine with her. He saw a flicker of annoyance in her eyes, and her realized that the thought of having to recover was not appealing to her. He had to hold back an adoring smile. There was no need to make her feel anymore uncomfortable than she already was. "Doctors orders. I am merely the diligent enforcer." Darcy said.

"If you do not mind Miss. Elizabeth, I have ordered dinner for the both of us to be brought to your parlor. Neither of us have eaten all day, and you are not to over-exert yourself." He didn't mention that he had unthinkingly emptied the house, so they were the only ones currently resided in it, except for the staff.

There was a pause where she seemed to struggle for an answer. He knew that she did not desire to be alone with him, and he didn't want to seem like she had to say yes to be polite.

"If you are too tired to entertain, I will certainly understand." He told her gently, inwardly chiding himself for allowing too much of his affection for her leak into his voice.

She surprised them both, however, when she said, "It is no trouble at all Mr. Darcy."

"Excellent. I will be back in but an hour." He said, bowing and turning to leave. There was an extended period of time before he heard her door shut. He wondered if she had been watching him. The thought alone made his heart flip, but he quickly put it in check.

---%--{(()

She watched his retreating figure for a moment in shock. She quickly shook herself mentally and shut the door with a soft _click. _Her whole body was beginning to shake, and she knew that she needed to sit down before she fainted and only added to the problems gripping this fine estate.

What compelled her to accept his offer when she could hardly stand the thought of being alone with him? And how foolish he must think her! Somehow she had managed to avoid going home to Hertfordshire, and ended up mere miles from Pemberly! And she didn't even remember how.

His hospitality was not necessary, but greatly appreciated. Lizzy knew she should try to tell him how grateful she was, but after last week…. She was too prideful to admit that she had been in the wrong, and had grossly miscalculated his character—a talent she had always taken pride in. Now here he was, showing her how wrong she had been, and she hated him for it. It was not his fault he was entirely kind and generous to her, but if he were otherwise the whole situation would be much easier for Lizzy.

She tipped her head back against the couch and closed her eyes with a complaining moan. Why her?

"Miss. Bennett." Lizzy looked up to see that Sophie had returned. The maid curtsied and said "Miss, we've drawn a bath for you if you are willing. And Mr. Darcy has instructed us to dress you in one of Miss. Georgiana's gowns. I am also to convey to you that sudden business with the authorities will delay him in joining you for dinner, so you can take as long as you like."

Standing up slowly, Elizabeth thanked the girl and followed her into the bathing room. A warm bath was greatly anticipated, but the whole time her mind was on the authorities Mr. Darcy was currently meeting with. Did they bring news of what had happened to her?

She was broken out of her troubled thoughts when she gazed upon the dress she was currently being helped into. It was exquisite. Perhaps a little outdated, but by no more than a year. Still, it was more elegant and expensive than anything she had ever worn.

It was perhaps a little tight, and the dress wasn't quite long enough, but she did not care much. Mr. Darcy had obviously seen her in much worse conditions.

Her face started to color when she thought about how he had found her, and hoped she hadn't looked too indecent.

Once she was in the dress, she didn't know what to do with herself. She looked in the mirror and attempted to arrange her hair to hide the large, stitched up gash on her forehead, but everything she came up with looked ridiculous, so she gave up when even her vision had started to blur with fatigue. She pulled out all the pins in her hair, letting it fall in waves to her mid back. It was improper, but she was beyond caring as she made her way out to the quaint little sofa once more.

Elizabeth's family, and anyone who knew her at all actually, had always called her stubborn. Even now this quality was showing as she struggled to ignore and fight the feelings she had due to her accident. Her headache was prevalent as ever, she felt dizzy constantly, and she was scared that if she closed her eyes at all, she would fall into a deep sleep, in danger of not waking up for a very very long time.

Another sensation had joined about half an hour ago. She was overwhelmingly hungry, which was the only thing that actually kept her awake.

Just as she was starting to have impatient thoughts for food to show up, a knock happened upon her door, and, knowing who it was but choosing not to stand and get the door herself, she merely called out that he may enter.

())}--%--

Darcy opened the door to the parlor of Elizabeth's room to see her in a dress he remembered Georgiana wearing for Easter last year.

How arrogant he had been when he had critically analyzed her looks last fall. Her face was not symmetric, but he had come to see that symmetry was not what determined beauty in a women. Her eyes were bright with mirth and humor whenever he saw her, and her complexion was flawless. When she looked at him he had to suppress an urge to cross the room and kiss her. His nightly dreams had given him numerous ideas that at times he was ashamed of.

"Miss Elizabeth." He bowed before crossing the room to where she sat on the couch. From behind him some of the kitchen staff moved to quickly prepare their dinner arrangements. He blatantly ignored them as he observed her. "How are you feeling?"

"I am sure I will feel much better once I have eaten Mr. Darcy." She said standing up and attempting bravely to help herself to the other side of the room, but Darcy was not fooled. He offered her his arm, and without either of them saying a word, he escorted her to the table, where their food was ready. It would not be a multiple course meal, the setting too intimate to provide that, but he did not mind much.

Once sitting, she looked up at him. "What have the authorities said Mr. Darcy?" he wished that he would not seem too forward if he asked her to call him William, as his friends did. But he feared her reaction, so held back that request, and answered her question instead.

"Well, the good news is that it seems that you had no companions, which relieved me greatly. Besides the driver of your coach, no one else seems to be missing. I had at first feared for your previous traveling companion, Miss. Maria Lucas, but it is evident that she was not there." He took a few bites of his dinner while he watched her from his peripheral vision. She appeared to be relieved.

"Any indication as to why I was so far north?" She asked after a time, and he answered back that there was not, but that he had alerted her parents, who would hopefully shed light onto the event in their return letter.

"I wish to thank you Mr. Darcy." She said, looking anywhere but at him. "I fear who would have happened upon me had you not." As hard as the words seemed to be for her to say, they sounded sincere.

He looked up from his food to observe her. "I was merely at the right place at the right time."

"But so early in the morning?" She asked. He sighed. Elizabeth's cunning mind missed nothing, and she must have realized the timing to be incredibly early.

But to tell her why he was out riding his horse at such an ungodly hour… "I'm afraid my explanation would make you uncomfortable Miss. Elizabeth."

She seemed dissatisfied with his answer, but looked at him with one of those smiles that alerted him that she had something mischievous on her mind. When she failed to enlighten him with her thoughts, he grew curious. "What have I done to amuse you so Miss. Elizabeth?" He asked her.

She seemed to suddenly realize she was smiling, and immediately stopped. "You will not convey your reasons to me, Mr. Darcy, so it is only fair that you also get no insight to my thoughts."

"Well reasoned, though one could argue that my reasons would cause you discomfort so you would not want to hear it. However, I am extremely curious to know what created that playful smile you so often harbor. Tell me, have I dribbled food all down my front?"

He looked down at his shirt in jest, all-the-while disbelieving of how he was acting to juvenilely towards her. He was being silly and carefree, something that was unheard of to him since his fathers passing when he took on the responsibility as Master of Pemberly.

His horror at his behavior was quickly replaced with pride that he had managed to incite a smile to appear on her face.

"I can assure you that your eating habits are as immaculate as always Mr. Darcy." She took a bite of her food and looked out the window at the setting sun. The sunset was always a beautiful sight at Pemberly, especially from this particular window. It overlooked a small pond that reflected the sun's brilliant hues.

"Is it something else then?" he asked, and leaned forward over the table slightly. "Come now Miss. Elizabeth, you can't have me looking like an imbecile."

"Insecure are we Mr. Darcy?" She asked, taking a bite of her food with a teasing look on her face. Mr. Darcy was very hard pressed not to try anything untoward.

He leaned back in his chair in an effort to distance himself from the seductress. It was not her fault, she was naturally like this; it was in her nature. Somehow she was seductive while following all the rules of society, and it left him at a loss.

He was seated, his posture perfect as always, but he had no idea how to answer her question, so he merely said, "Perhaps. Colonel Fitzwilliam is often teasing me for my disposition of being unsociable. He claims I am merely shy, and maybe I am insecure as an indirect result." He was not sure if this was true, but Elizabeth took it for an actual answer, though it had the opposite effect on her than he had been aiming for.

She frowned slightly and looked away from him again. He so desperately wanted to know what she was thinking.

Elizabeth attempted to eat more, but at that moment, the sunlight reflected off of the small pond in such away that it shined right into her eyes, and with a gasp of pain she

closed her eyes and buried her head in her hands.

Immediately, Darcy stood and shut the curtains to the window, hiding the offensive light and beautiful view. He was not too discouraged however, since he had the better vision sitting before him.

"Are you alright Miss. Elizabeth?"

She groaned quietly once more, and looked up at him with chagrin coloring her cheeks.

"Yes, thank you Mr. Darcy. I am still nursing a violent headache unfortunately…." Her words trailed off, and he knew that there was more than that bothering her.

"I am sorry for keeping you so long. If you are done with your dinner, I suggest you rest some more." His playful demeanor was gone all of the sudden, and he was back to the rigid formality he had been raised to carry out. This rapid change caught him off guard, and he wondered why he suddenly felt uncomfortable. Their civil, yet playful, conversation had been everything he had hoped this dinner would induce.

She readily agreed, and when she stood she swayed momentarily. Alarmed, Mr. Darcy grabbed her arm to make sure she did not fall.

"Thank you." She murmured, closing her eyes and raising her hand to cradle her head. Then she became aware of her actions and dropped her hand quickly.

"I'll assist you to your chambers." He said quietly. She didn't protest, since she seemed to acknowledge that she did not have the remaining energy to move unassisted. But she still held her head up high and tried to maintain what dignity she had left. He wanted to laugh at her antics, but he didn't. The last thing he needed was for her to think even worse of him than she already did.

He helped her cross the room to the bed, which had newly cleaned sheets. He noticed that there was a sleeping gown laid out for her, and he cleared his throat, trying not to think of her changing.

"I'll leave you now. If you need anything, call for Sophie. Good evening Miss. Elizabeth." He bowed and made to leave the room, but she stopped him.

"Mr. Darcy," she called, just before he reached the door. He turned to look at her, and she was blushing once more.

"Thank you." She said.

He couldn't help it this time. He smiled brilliantly at her. "There is no need to thank me Miss. Lizzy," he told her gently, and he bowed once more and left the room.


	4. The Third Floor

Chapter 4: The Third Floor

'Lizzy' He had called her. The woman in question sighed and laid back onto her bed, trying her hardest not to dwell on the way he had looked at her tonight. Of course she knew what his feelings were for her now…. But he had been good at hiding them until his proposal. Now it seemed as though the dam had cracked, and from behind his façade he let something slip now and then that made her squirm uncomfortable.

Uncomfortable was probably more accurate to how she felt she dealt with it. When he smiled at her it was like he didn't care about anything or anyone but her. Her stomach clenched and her heart beat faster. Did she like his attentions? She couldn't tell. She was definitely flattered to say the least. She isn't narrow minded enough to acknowledge that what he had claimed was true; that he liked her against the expectations of society and his family. It was a great honor.

He was not the man she had always thought him to be. His arrogance was merely him being shy and aloof. He had not been cruel towards George Wickham, and it was infact the other way around. As much as she mourned the pain her sister had to suffer, Mr. Darcy had believed he was helping his friend, showing loyalty which is certainly a good quality.

Elizabeth's head was full of questions that she wanted answered, and she longed to speak with Jane. Opening her eyes, she espied a writing desk.

She was exhausted, to be sure. But she wanted one last thing before she fell asleep, so she slowly made her way across the room and was pleased to find the supplies she would need to write her letter in the first drawer. She sat and began to write.

_My Dearest Jane. _

_I do not know if you have heard from mama and papa. To be sure that as I am writing this letter they are only just finding out, but might be able to alert you before my letter makes its way to you. _

_Please do not be alarmed, but I find myself in a terrible disposition. Just this morning I woke up in an unfamiliar carriage with none other than Mr. Darcy! Can you believe it Jane? It seems that I was in a carriage accident and sustained major head injury and blood loss. Mr. Darcy was, for some inexplicable reason, out for an early morning ride on his horse when he encountered my overturned carriage and myself alone in it._

_The odd part, Jane, is that there were no horses or driver accompanying me. We do not know how I happened this far north, for I have no memory of anything prior to a few days before I departed Kent. _

_Mr. Darcy has been more than generous, and I wish you were here so I could tell you all that has transpired between us. I know not how to put it on paper, but do not get your hopes up sister. I am not engaged to wed him, as I know you thought of with my previous words. I merely mean that we have all seriously misjudged his character._

_I for one am ashamed, for I insulted him quite horrendously to his face. This only makes my shame even deeper, for he seems to have forgiven me entirely, his generous hospitality evidence of this. _

_I so wish you were here with me Jane, since it is only me and Mr. Darcy alone in his great home, and I confined to my bed chambers and joining parlor. I am probably breaking some physician's rule by writing this letter to you, since I feel so overcome with fatigue. I half expect Mr. Darcy to come in and scold me like a child. He has been so diligent in attending to his patient, that I fear I will have no alone time in my waking hours. _

_Perhaps I will ask for you to come spend the last week of my stay with me. It would minimize the awkwardness greatly, and I so miss you. Send my love to our aunt and uncle, and the children as well._

_All my love, _

_Elizabeth. _

())}--%---

Darcy had not been able to fall asleep the night before, and once he had finally succumbed to slumber well past midnight, it was, as usual, filled with dreams of Elizabeth.

He slept deeply, and woke rather late in the morning after a dream where he had stolen down the hall in the dead of night and into the room Elizabeth was sleeping in. All that transpired after was not something you did until after you were wed to a woman, and as enticing as the idea was to him at the moment, he was appalled with himself. Being sufficiently aroused from his dream, he had to wait a while before calling on his steward, Mr. Greene, to dress.

He was embarrassed by his fantasies, yes. But he could not deny that with every passing moment his attraction to Elizabeth grew stronger, and having her in his home was not helping his problem. He wanted to out grow this phase until she were simply a pleasant memory. This wasn't because he was ashamed for his feelings for her, but rather he did not want to get his hope up that they could ever be married. She simply wouldn't have him.

He spoke not a word to Mr. Greene as he dressed, which was uncommon. He hoped his steward would not be offended, but he had so much on his mind that he was scared if he opened his mouth it would all come tumbling out and, like Richard had said, cause a scandal Pemberly hadn't seen in years.

However when he encountered Sophie on his way down to the breakfast parlor, he said, "How is Miss. Bennett?"

"She woke early this morning and had her breakfast sir. She is resting once more." The young girl of about eighteen explained. Darcy thanked her, but she was not finished. "She also wrote a letter to her sister that she asked to be sent express. Is okay with you sir?"

He knew she was enquiring after the extra cost, but it would do nothing to harm him financially. He waved a hand at her as if to say it was no trouble and said, "Miss. Bennett may have whatever she wants."

As he walked away from the curtsying girl, he thought vaguely how much he would be willing to give her, had she asked. He was falling deeper and deeper in love with her that he was sure that were she to ask for his most prized possessions he would hand them to her with a smile on his face.

While breakfasting, his butler came and announced the arrival of Mr. Alexander Smith, head of the local authorities.

Darcy stood and greeted the man like an old friend. The estate of Pemberly was unfortunately subjected to many thieves and poachers, so he had grown to know the man fairly well.

"What news Mr. Smith?" Darcy inquired, gesturing that the man should join him at the table.

"We found a stray horse just north of Matlock, still wearing its harnesses. We believe it is a runaway from the carriage, and we are looking for the other." The man informed Darcy.

He nodded. "Still no luck on the driver?"

"I'm afraid not. No one has reported a spouse or family member missing, which does not say much. The man could have been yet unmarried with little or no family remaining."

Darcy scratched his chin. "I'm still trying to discover whose carriage it was, but Miss. Bennett has no recollection of this incident, or very much prior to it. I wrote to her family, and hopefully they can shed some light on the dreadful event."

Mr. Smith stood up, putting his top hat onto his head. "When do you expect to hear from them?"

"Later today, perhaps, if they send their letter express." Mr. Darcy said, shaking the hand of his friend in farewell.

---%--{(()

The day passed with little activity for Darcy. He spent most of his day in the library staring at a book but not reading it. It was not well into the afternoon, and no one had brought him news of Elizabeth waking. He hoped that her head injury was not more severe than anyone thought. She had seemed well enough last night…

He wondered vaguely if Richard and Georgiana had departed for Pemberly yet. As eager as he was for Elizabeth to meet his sister, he found that the thrill of being alone in his home with her was great. If they had left already, he could expect them the day after tomorrow, and oddly it didn't seem like enough time to win her back.

_Win her back? Darcy you fool, you never had her._ He thought bitterly to himself, standing and putting his unread book on the shelf where he had found it.

At that moment, Sophie came to alert him that Elizabeth had awaken about half an hour ago, and was requesting to walk in the gardens. Darcy chuckled to himself, anticipating her reaction when he had to decline her request. 'Give her anything she wants.' He had said. How hypocritical of him.

He was just passing the front door when there was a knock. Too curious to see who would be calling on him, he didn't wait for the butler to answer the door, but did so himself.

It was merely a letter carrier, who looked shocked to see Mr. Darcy answer the door, but was polite never-the-less.

The letter was addressed to Mr. Darcy of Pemberly, and he was rather confident that this was a reply letter from Mr. Bennett. Darcy thanked the letter carrier and made his way to the third floor with the letter. He scanned it once, but decided that he would read it to Elizabeth to see what she made of it.

He knocked on the door to her parlor, and said, "Miss. Elizabeth, I come baring a letter from your father."

The door opened mere seconds later, to reveal Elizabeth wearing another of Georgiana's gowns. She saw him admiring his dress, and she said, "I must thank you for allowing me to wear your sister's gowns Mr. Darcy. I appear to have traveled without my luggage."

He replied that it was not a problem at all, but he was thinking of what she had said. Surely when she traveled she brought extra clothing and necessities? Perhaps the carriage accident had been a robbery, and that was where her garments had gone. But it still made no sense that someone would kidnap the driver and not her.

"You said you had a letter from my father?" she inquired, stepping aside to let him into her room.

"Yes, it came only moments ago. He seems to be rather anxious for you."

"May I read it?" she asked rather boldly. It was his mail after all, but he decided to read it to her.

"Mr. Darcy," he began, moving to the sofa to sit, and overcome with curiosity, Elizabeth sat down beside him. He tried to ignore her close proximity as he read:

_I cannot express my gratitude in your generosity towards my daughter. I am also thankful that you arrived in time to assure that no more serious danger became of her. My wife is, as usual, complaining about her poor nerves and also how our dear Lizzy had a fetish for instigating them. _

At this point, Elizabeth blushed. The inappropriateness of the letter was evident, but Mr. Darcy found in it the wit and dry humor that made Mr. Bennett tolerable. He read on.

_We are as dumbfounded as you are as to why she found herself in Derbyshire. She passed through here after her stay in Kent, but only to bring Miss. Maria Lucas back to her family. Miss. Lucas came to us baring a letter explaining that Lizzy was headed north to visit a friend. I was not too happy to know that she would be traveling unescorted, and here is the proof that it should not be done. Other than this information, we know nothing more than you._

_I hope my Lizzy isn't too ill as to be a burden to you for much longer. She is very dear to me and I hate to hear of such things happening to her. I take refuge in your assurance of her well-being, as much as can be expected, and I hope for a speedy recovery so that she can hurry home._

_I thank you most profusely._

_Your servant,_

_Mr. Bennett. _

There was a silence for a moment, and Elizabeth seemed to color even more. "I am sorry my father talks so out of line sometimes." She said, though it seemed to be a mistake that she had even said it at all.

"It is no problem. There is nothing wrong with a father being overcome with concern for a daughter." He assured her as he folded the letter. Then he thought back over the information. "What friends do you have that live north?" he inquired.

"I know of no one besides you." She admitted. Both were fully aware that she had just categorized him as a friend. "Nor do I know why I would be so impudent as to travel alone."

"And are you feeling well today Miss. Elizabeth?" he inquired.

"About the same as yesterday, though I am not as fatigued yet." She shrugged her shoulders and looked out the window with an obvious sense of longing in her expression.

"Ah yes," Darcy said. "I heard of your inquiry, and besides doctor's orders to stay rested, there are many other problems with your request." He told her simply. Personally, a walk in the garden with her sounded wonderful, but he didn't want to risk her health to fulfill his wants.

"And what are those?" she demanded.

"One being that you are sensitive to light," he reminded her of yesterday both in the carriage and during dinner. "Also you would probably not make it down and back up two flights of stairs, and I would have to resort to carrying you once more." Not that he minded in the slightest.

"These are all fair points you have made Mr. Darcy, and I find I cannot compete with you. Shall we have a compromise?"

"A compromise?" he asked, smiling a bit and arching one eyebrow.

"Could I have a tour of your lovely third floor? I find that if I am contained in this one particular room any longer I shall go mad." She proclaimed.

"You've been here barely a day." He said teasingly, though understanding completely. He would feel the exact same way if their roles were switched.

She stood and made her way to the door. "I know. I cannot believe you have managed to keep me contained for so long."

Darcy crossed the room and opened the door, and he registered her triumphant smile. She should realize by now that he was too far gone to deny her something like touring his home.

Does she realize all this could have been hers, or does she not remember the proposal itself? She gave no indication which it was, so he decided that he would go along with what she did. "The third floor consists only of rooms for family Miss. Bennett, therefore it will be very repetitive, and I fear you will be bored within minutes." He said.

Her eyes got wide as they ventured into the hall that was quite long and made a right hand turn at one end towards more bedrooms and a balcony. At the other end were the more frequently used rooms such as lodgings for Colonel Fitzwilliam, Georgiana, and himself.

"These are all merely rooms for the family?" She inquired.

He nodded. "There is the Master and Mistress suite where I currently take residence. It is the biggest suite on the floor, consisting of separate bedrooms for husband and wife. The latter of which has not been resided in since my mother passed away." He informed her. He steered her right instead of left towards his room. "Colonel Fitzwilliam has his own chambers here, as do Lady Catherine and Miss. Anne, though they do not stay here as frequently as Richard. Georgiana has the second largest dwelling in the house. They were my old rooms before I took up residence in my fathers."

"Five rooms all on this floor?" she asked, looking around.

He cleared his throat, feeling slightly embarrassed for some reason. "Nine, actually. A nursery and three children's rooms."

Elizabeth was silent for a moment. "Whose chamber's and I occupying?" she asked in a way that confused him, but he answered that they were Georgiana's old chambers from when she was younger.

The first door they came to was the blue room. It was still decorated exactly as his mother had when she first arrived at Pemberly and bore her first son. She had exquisite taste, and even today the room was stylishly furnished, even having been so thirty years prior. Darcy smiled at the room, many memories of his childhood having been here.

He went on to show her the nursery and second children's room. At the end of that hallway were glass double doors that led to a balcony that overlooked much of the expansive Pemberly estate. The house itself sat atop a hill, so you could see for miles all around.

"Your gardens look lovely," Elizabeth said wistfully.

"Perhaps next week," he told her while laughing once more at her appalled expression.

He led her back towards her room, and while doing so, he explained a little about each painting and occasional sculpture. His grandmother had been an artist herself, and had quite a collection started at Pemberly.

He watched her carefully as he did so, waiting for signs of fatigue or weakness. She seemed to be short of breath frequently, but did well never the less.

"Whose room is that?" She asked once they got back to her door, pointing at one quite a ways down the hall and on the other side.

"Mine," He said simply. She looked up at him in shock, then looked back down the hall.

"If you wish to see more you may, as long as you feel well enough." He told her, offering his arm for support.

She seemed to take it gratefully, and he wondered if she had been hiding her symptoms a little better than he thought.

Next he showed her Richards and Georgiana's rooms. They each had their own style and a certain air of being lived in. Darcy explained to Elizabeth that Richard preferred to stay at Pemberly while at leave from the army, rather than at his parents home in Matlock.

"Why?" She asked him, looking around his room. There were many items of a personal nature out, so she started to retreat from the room, feeling as if she were invading his privacy.

Darcy shrugged. "His parents are forever trying to convince him to marry, while he has no desire to do so. We are both bachelors in life and so it makes living with each other fairly pleasant."

Elizabeth smiled, but it dropped a little when they came to the last door. Her eyes burned with curiosity, and it made him think that maybe she did remember his proposal. Perhaps she was curious to see where he future could have taken her.

"Are you feeling up to this last adventure?" He asked her with a warm smile, telling her that he did not mind so much for her to be in his chambers.

He dared not think down such a dangerous road as to what traditionally happens when a woman is first introduced to a man's bed chambers. He ignored his traitorous thoughts, and opened the door to reveal his sitting room.

The library being too far away to venture in the dead of night when he found he needed the assistance of a book to read, he had brought some of the library to his room. Here there were two book cases of all his favorite classics, along with two arm chairs that had belonged to his mother and father.

He had in fact left the room mostly as they had, with minor changes to it. The walls were of a deep forest green, which was tribute to the Darcy men and their lust for the outdoors. Besides the chairs and book cases, there was a fire place, a table setting similar to the one in Elizabeth's room, and a writing desk where Darcy wrote some of his letters.

"I haven't changed much since my parents passed on." He confessed to her. "I find that keeping up with the latest trends to be tedious and too much work. Not to mention refurnishing every other year can begin to be expensive."

Elizabeth smiled at his confession. "But you appear to be a man of fashion Mr. Darcy. Not even Caroline Bingley has much to say in the way of insults." Her eyes shined with mirth, and she looked at him awaiting his reply.

"Caroline Bingley is one of the many examples why I have not married yet," He said dryly, crossing the room to a door he never used. "This was my mother's room," he told her.

His parents were one of those rare cases however, where they did not follow the many rules of society and inhabit separate bed chambers. They were so much in love that her bed was used only when sick or delivering a child. Unfortunately, her last year of life had seen much more use of her room than it was accustomed to.

She glanced about the room, then retreated once more to his sitting room. He made no move towards his own chambers, and she did not ask about them. He was personally afraid of where his thoughts would take him, and subsequently his actions if she were in there with him. So instead he led her back out to the hall way.

Already she was moving slower, so he assisted her into her parlor. "Would you like anything Miss. Elizabeth?" He asked her.

"No, I thank you Mr. Darcy. Your home is very lovely." She told him while they stood in the door way.

He desperately wished that someday he could have heard her say 'our room,' but alas, it could not be. "I thank you Miss. Elizabeth. I take great pride in my home, for it represents my ancestors' hard work."

She smiled in reply, and knowing that to stay any longer would be imposing and suspicious, he bid her goodbye, but not without one last request. "Shall we have dinner together once more tonight?" he asked her, hoping she would say yes.

"Since I have no desire of dining alone, I guess I will have to make due with you Mr. Darcy," She said teasingly. How odd it was for him to be teased. He assumed he appeared too intimidating to be teased by anyone, yet here she was, not afraid of even him and all the wealth and power that came with his name. He respected her for that.

"Until tonight then Miss. Elizabeth." He bowed and left her alone once more.


	5. Vendetta

_**Chapter 5: Vendetta**_

_"Why is he so altered? From what can it proceed? It cannot be for me– it cannot be for my sake that his manners are thus softened. My reproofs at Hunsford could not work such a change as this. It is impossible that he should still love me."_

_~Elizabeth Bennett, Pride & Prejudice_

37 ½ hours earlier….

The sun had barely started to touch the tops of the trees when a man of about seven and twenty stumbled out of the trees due to a tree root that had connected with his foot in a rather unfortunate way.

It was evident by the dress of the man that he was poor. His clothes had been reduced to mere rags that closely resembled a dusting device used for cleaning. You would never guess from the looks of this man that he had come from money… and quite a lot of it. It had been fate that dealt him the unfortunate card of being the fourth and youngest son in his family, therefore he inherited nothing. This left him in such a position that many young men like him had to deal with; he had to find an heiress to marry.

His situation was not quite so different from that of Colonel Fitzwilliam. Both young men had sought out the army and war as a way to live and earn honest money. What was not the same of these two, was that the former had found love while the army was stationed in France.

Her name had been Mary, and she was the poor daughter of a farmer who could barely afford the food on their table. Barely a month after their first sighting, the man had written home to inform his parents that he was to bring the woman home on his first available vacation to marry her into the family. It is needless to say that his family had been outraged. But their worry and anger were not important to the young couple in love.

Then one night she had received the unfortunate news that he father had betrothed her at birth to a first born cousin on her deceased mother's slightly wealthier family. They fought it, and had actually begun to pack to elope when she became violently sick with the flu. To these star-crossed lovers, the forces seemed to be out to ensure they were never together, and he held her hand during her dying breath.

Crushed and heart broken, the man had seriously considered suicide, but then decided on faking his own death. He staged a struggle close to where the army was stationed where it was sure to be found, then he stole into the trees at the dead of night, never to be seen again by any who had known him.

Those he did interact with had often considered him mad, and he had actually been nearly forced to inhabit bedlam hospital. But about a year ago he was approached by someone who was in need of someone who would not mind handling some rather delicate jobs that the viler and deceiving people of the upper class wanted carried out. In need of money to live, the young man accepted.

It was this crazed heartbroken man that had stumbled across a road in the early hours of the morning to the overturned carriage where he had left the unconscious young woman to deal with the driver. He was only one man; therefore he had to work the job in small increments. The driver had struggled to defend the young woman, but three years in the army, and another two defending himself in the wild and on the streets, he was much stronger and had managed to drag the driver into the point far in the woods he had established for his captives. He had threw the man onto the ground, bound and gagged him, and made his way back to the girl. Now as he approached his more important target, he was overcome with that rush of anticipation he got when he was close to successfully completing a job.

When he crawled into the overturned carriage only to find it devoid of anyone, he paled with anger and fright. He quickly crawled out to search the premises. He spotted the hoof marks from a horse that had not been there previously, and even the prints from high end boots. He made a sound of pure anger, knowing that some gallant man had come and encountered the damsel in distress. He assisted her probably to the nearest physician, as her head wound and various other cuts and scrapes had probably resulted in massive blood loss.

Just in case, he searched the nearest trees incase she had carried herself off. If that was the case, she would not have gotten far. But he knew by instinct that she was long gone by now. He had taken too long in the woods with the driver, and probably should have just killed the driver and dealt with the woman first.

He recognized his blunder, and frightfully wondered if it would cost him his job.

Present 

"Your cook is very talented Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth said over dinner that night. She had taken a well needed nap after her tour of the third floor of Pemberly, and was now eating dinner with Mr. Darcy once more. It was not as uncomfortable as it had been the night before. Oddly it had taken no time at all for them to become acclimated to each others presence, and that quite frankly frightened her. But being just as stubborn as she always was, she chose to ignore the feeling and just enjoyed his company for the moment.

Mr. Darcy nodded and once he finished chewing his food he told her that she was one of the best in Derbyshire.

They talked pleasantly for a little while longer, somehow getting onto the subject of horses.

"Pemberly is currently home to ten full grown horses, and four fouls," he told her, always excited to talk of one of his favorite topics. "We breed and sell them. We're actually at an all time low, but since I am rarely home anymore there is less need for as many horses."

"What takes you away from such a beautiful home so often Mr. Darcy?" she inquired politely.

He thought for a moment, then answered honestly. "I guess it is painful to be home for such extended periods of time. Although my father passed on some six years ago, and my mother three years before him, this home reminds me of what they had in life, and what I have been unable to accomplish." She did not miss his allusion to marriage, but once again chose to ignore it.

"Surely Georgiana loves to be home though. I cannot imagine any young woman unable to resist such splendor and beauty. Your gardens should be temptation enough."

He nodded an affirmation. "Yes, she has expressed many times a wish to be home. I

actually took the liberty of your stay here to have her join us. Colonel Fitzwilliam will be escorting her here and she should be here the day after tomorrow. Richard will stay for a few more days, but then he will have to rejoin the army." Darcy explained to her, taking the last bite of his dinner, and leaning back in his chair.

Elizabeth's fork froze in mid air between her plate and her mouth however, and her eyes became slightly larger. "I am to meet Miss. Darcy?" she questioned.

Darcy nodded. "If that is to your liking," He said, with a small, unknowing frown on his face. Did she not want to meet his sister?

The truth of the matter was completely opposite however. She very much desired to meet Georgiana, who had often been boasted of great beauty and a woman of charm and great accomplishment; but to think that someone nearly five years younger than her was much more accomplished and intelligent than she was slightly intimidating.

However, she was never one two be seriously affected by the superiority of wealthier people, for she always found some fault in them she could laugh at and congratulate herself on not being so petty, or selfish, or greedy…

"I would like very much to meet Miss. Darcy," she told him smiling, already recovered from her moment of hesitation. Usually she would have handled such news flawlessly, only to dwell on it in the moments just before sleep. However she still suffered from her head injury and she was sure that altered her thinking somewhat.

Darcy smiled and asked her how she was feeling, as if he knew where her thoughts had been at that moment.

"I fear Mr. Darcy that I still suffer the occasional headache or dizzy spell." She explained, and then a humorous thought escaped her before she knew what it is she was saying. "I fear I am becoming more and more like my mother each day, and pray it will only be temporary."

She could tell he was not sure if he should laugh or not, and though she was embarrassed she had said such a comment at all, she meant it.

"Come now Mr. Darcy," she said playfully, smiling at him from across the table. "It is well known that my mother is very silly person indeed, though she means well. I am aware that I should not have said such a thing against my own mother. Forgive me, occasionally my mouth gets ahead of my mind."

Darcy smiled at her apology. "There is no need to apologize Miss. Bennett. You are at liberty to say anything you desire about your mother. I however, have not the pleasure of calling her mother, so I cannot laugh at her expense."

Too late he realized what his words had implied. Though the actuality of having the notorious Mrs. Bennett as a mother would be appalling in and of itself, it would mean that he was married to Elizabeth, a fact that did not seem to escaper her, judging by her expression.

Darcy took a quick sip of his wine, cleared his throat and said, "It appears that we have both run away with our words tonight, Miss. Elizabeth." She glanced away from his stare and looked about the room, trying to come up with something to say in return.

In a noble effort to pretend as though she had not heard the meaning behind his words, Elizabeth merely laughed her intoxicating laugh and stated that he was a very polite man indeed. "For you have much more honor than the women of your status, who laugh at the inferiorities of other people, while foolishly expose their own faults in the process."

Darcy thought immediately of Miss. Caroline Bingley, and was sure that she was as well. "Indeed, if we cannot act with any sort of dignity that status brings, we are no better than the common savage. If we do not respect our peers and people considered inferior by wealth and birth, then we cannot expect anything good in return."

"Well stated Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth exclaimed with a smile, thinking that she enjoyed sharing conversations with him about such things, and for once they were in agreement. The awkwardness of the previous moment caused by his mistake had been overcome thanks to her willingness to overlook his foolishness.

())}--%---

When she had approached him about the kind of jobs she needed done, at first he did not take her seriously. She was a woman after all. But she had done well in showing how powerful she was, especially towards someone with the kind of life style as himself.

Sometimes he would drink too much and forget his own name. His name was long and hard to remember anyway. Samuel Elisha James O'Connell Ackley. If you couldn't tell, his lineage was almost pure Irish. His father's family had lived in England, but his fathers mother, and his mother's entire family was Irish.

He generally just told people his name was Elisha O'Connell. He didn't want anyone associating him with his family who were too caught up in their own wealth to acknowledge true love for what it was worth.

When he left the army, he had left all thoughts of propriety behind, and what was right or what was wrong. If he needed to he could blend in with the best of them, and sometimes he caught himself talking in the intelligent way he had grown up. But Elisha had shunned that life, and now his new career was just further proof of how much he had changed.

When she had found Elisha, he was extremely intoxicated, and engaged in a game of whist with rather high stakes that he could not afford to lose, purely because he didn't have the money to pay.

She took one glance at him, and told him to meet her tomorrow at noon. Obviously he was in no state to make a deal with anyone, and it was a wonder he had even remembered her the day after.

She was rich, that was for sure. Her business was one she and her husband had started for a little extra money when they were starting to fall into debt, and it was obvious the new business had helped them immensely. She generally did the recruiting; he gave out the orders of who was to be 'handled' and how it was to be done. People came to them, and depending on how much they could pay, the more discreet they would be.

In the most recent job with the over turned carriage plan, it was a relatively low end job, so it was done hastily, and there was evidence of foul play, but nothing to give any indication towards who was at fault.

He didn't know who wanted Elizabeth Bennett dead, but it had taking quite a lot of cunning on his part to get her to Derbyshire. The plan was to make it obvious that it was Elizabeth Bennett who had been kidnapped and for all anyone knew, killed or made some sort of slave. But he had failed at his task, and whoever wanted the job done was going to be furious at his master, who will ultimately be angry with Elisha.

Elisha stared at the still alive carriage driver, trying to decide what he should do with him. It has been nearly two days since his failure, and he had not heard any news from his master as was planned. So what did he do with the driver?

---%--{(()

Lizzy paced her room all that night, fighting the fog that threatened to take over her brain. It was really rather frustrating that she couldn't stay awake for more than a couple hours, but she was experiencing that phenomenon where you are too tired to fall asleep. It contradicts itself to be sure, but at this point she was grateful.

So desperately she wanted to apologize to Mr. Darcy for how she had acted in there argument over a week ago, but she was afraid he would renew his sentiments and wishes. Even more afraid of that, was how she would answer.

Her rejection had been based on all she had concluded about his personality through not just her observations but those of others as well. She prided herself on being able to escape the narrow minded assumptions of others, and that she was not affected by the same ailment, but she had proven herself wrong in this matter. Thinking back, he had been polite and even friendly with her at times. He had certainly given her more attention than other woman she had seen, and she enjoyed their small battles driven by words and

wit.

Even just these past two days made him seem so much better in her eyes. Would she accept a renewed proposal from him? She had once told Jane she would only marry for true love. Was she in love with Mr. Darcy?

She didn't really want to think about it. It was very doubtful he would renew his sentiments, being a man of pride and dignity. Young women very rarely received proposals from the same man more than once.

Elizabeth decided that she would attempt to fall asleep and hope that the matter would resolve itself in the morning when her head was clearer. It was surprisingly easy for her to fall asleep on the comfortable bed with her head so full of chaotic thoughts. And for the first time, she dreamt of Mr. Darcy, and taking a walk in his beautiful gardens in Pemberly.

When she awoke, she distinctly recalled referring to the magnificent house as 'our home.'

())}---%---

Darcy was an early riser by habit, and this particular morning, on the third day of Elizabeth's stay, he was up just as the sun started to rise. He was feeling the restlessness of being constricted to the indoors just as Elizabeth was, since he had confined himself to the house to ensure that all was well with her.

He trusted the servants to deal with any needs of hers that may arise, and so he stepped out of the house and walked through the dewy grass. The air was still chilly, since spring had only just started to arrive, but it was his favorite time of the year to take Agaue out for a ride.

The rush of cool air in his face helped to clear his mind, and his ride had been a lot longer than he had anticipated. He rode almost all the way around the Pemberly estate, taking his favorite routes through trees and over bridges. He even rode through the road of the small village in Pemberly for all its workers and their families. They were already up and beginning to work, even though the sun had barely risen.

He reflected on the previous two days during his ride, and there were many unusual things he saw in the whole situation. For one, who would want Elizabeth dead, and what were their motives? Even the thought of her being dead was painful to him, and the thought occurred to him that this could be an attack against Mr. Darcy indirectly, but who would know of his proposal and feelings besides Elizabeth and Colonel Fitzwilliam?

Darcy was a reasonable man, and to think that he had made someone so dead set on seeking revenge on him was unthinkable. Beside Wickham, who could hold such a grudge? Most men would challenge another to a duel anyway, so he quickly disregarded that this was an attack against himself. There was nothing to support the theory.

Also, why did Mr. Bennett not insist on coming to the aid of his most beloved daughter? It was obvious to Darcy that Elizabeth was by far his favorite of the bunch, and who could blame him? Not that Darcy was particularly complaining. If her father did come, it would leave him without so much as a hope of a chance to earn her affections. It was odd that he did not come, but it was also evident that he was not behind the attack to Elizabeth. Darcy proclaimed it an absolutely absurd thought the moment entered his mind.

Finally, how was Elizabeth convinced to come out here alone, unescorted? The only reason he could think of that she would do such a think was perhaps for her sister, whom she obviously cared for above all people.

Darcy put the thoughts out of his head as he dismounted his horse at the stables. He was improperly aired, and he was thankful that the house was empty besides himself and Elizabeth, who was confined to her chambers.

Quickly he strode towards his home and all the way through to the third floor. He was just passing her room when he heard the door click open.

())}--%----

The words in Elizabeth's dream had disturbed her. She felt restless and confined. All she wanted was to stretch her legs for a bit on the third floor. She knew she was probably breaking some sort of rule, but Darcy was most likely not awake, so she thought she would risk it to work off some of her energy, and try to ignore her thoughts which kept turning towards her dream

So it was with great shock that she opened her door to reveal Mr. Darcy, with his shirt unbuttoned to reveal the very top of his chest, and his riding boots covered in mud. Her eyes lingered too long, and she felt her face start to warm. But other than that, she let her face show no emotion than calmness, the exact opposite than what she felt inside.

"Mr. Darcy," She said, curtsying, and making herself keep her gaze on his face. "Good morning."

He steadily returned her gaze, but she could tell he felt slightly uncomfortable. Lizzy, always fond of toying with people, decided that this conversation should be much longer than necessary.

"Good morning Miss. Bennett." He said, bowing properly. When he looked at her once more, her mind returned to their walk in the Pemberly gardens in her dream, and she vaguely wondered what it meant. Someone had once told her that dreams were your mind trying to tell you things that you didn't want to think about or refused to believe.

Lizzy pushed the thoughts out of her mind and smiled at Mr. Darcy. "What brings you out to the grounds so early in the morning Mr. Darcy?" she inquired.

"I find that recently I am a very early riser, so I decided to give my horse a work out. I find it helpful to one whose mind is full and cant sort through it all." He explained, and his body language showed that he was desperately looking for a polite way of dismissing himself.

Lizzy agreed with him. "Though I do not ride horses, I love taking walks in the morning when the grass is still dewy and the sun barely risen."

"Is that what you are doing now Miss. Elizabeth?" he asked with a knowing smile. They both knew that she was not to be physically exerting herself, and while he had made a small exception yesterday, she shouldn't walk unattended.

Lizzy laughed a little. "You have caught me Mr. Darcy, though I had not planned on venturing past the now familiar third floor."

"How are you feeling today Miss. Elizabeth?" he inquired.

"Much better, I thank you for your concern Mr. Darcy," she said, confused at the abrupt change of conversation.

"If you will allow me to retire to my chambers momentarily, I can come back and escort you downstairs where you may tour the second floor, if that is pleasing to you." He gave her a knowing smile. She was as restless as he could get, so she would undoubtedly accept his invitation. She did no disappoint.

"That sounds delightful Mr. Darcy. I shall wait for you here."

----%---{(()

Each time Elisha had seen his Master, he had the strange feeling that there was more to the man than met the eye. Whoever he was, he was a powerful man you did not want to meet with. There was something about this particular case that had the master edgy, and that was why Elisha feared his career, and potentially his life.

This time was no different from the others. They met in a discrete place where they were not going to be overheard or seen. The master kept his face patiently expressionless, at least until Elisha had given him the news about the girl.

"You failed?" He whispered softly in a deadly hiss that made the hair on the back of Elisha's neck stand up.

Elisha looked away, and tried to think of an explanation. But it was too late. He was not useless to the Master, who needed only the best serving him.

Elisha never even saw the glint of silver before he felt the dagger.


	6. The Library

_Chapter 6: The Library_

_Friendship is certainly the finest balm for the pangs of disappointed love._

~Jane Austen

"Miss. Elizabeth!" Darcy cried, while trying too hard not to laugh at the absurdity of such a situation. His legs were carrying him at a brisk pace down the corridor. 'Find me if you can Mr. Darcy," she had said, and then ran off down the nearest corridor before he had the time to react.

It was much like the childish game of hide and seek, though he could not see Elizabeth tucked away in some corner hiding her laughter behind a dainty hand. They had barely made it to the second floor when she had taken off, and if his hunch was correct, he knew just where to find her.

He proceeded to the end of the hallway, where the giant oak doors were slightly ajar, and he felt certain that she had not been able to stifle her curiosity at the sight of them.

Darcy peeked into the library to see her walking slowly away from the doors, taking in the sight of hundreds upon hundreds of books. She revolved in a small circle, but stopped suddenly when she caught him spying on her.

"Oh dear." She sighed in fake disappointment, but with a smile on her face. "It seems I have lost my touch and failed to find a proper place to hide."

Darcy joined her in the library, once again driven breathless by everything that was Elizabeth, and how she continually surprised him. "On the contrary," Darcy said, admiring her as she resumed her observations of the room. "I find myself lost in the library for hours on end. It could be a very good hiding place."

"How many books are in here?" She inquired, walking away from him. As she did so, she ran her fingers lightly along the spines of books that rested on a lower shelf. She looked mesmerized.

Darcy had to remind himself that she had asked him a question. He had lost himself in the sight of her, and only remembered to reply when she turned and looked at him questioningly. "I am not sure." He said truthfully. "They have been accumulating for generations upon generations."

"My father would give away much of his possessions to be in a library such as this." Elizabeth proclaimed, facing Mr. Darcy while he once more reflected on thoughts of his seemingly futile hopes of marriage between them. If she had said yes, perhaps her father would have beheld the Pemberley library.

"May I take a book for the duration of my stay, Mr. Darcy?" she inquired pleasantly, taking a book at random off of the shelves and examining it. It was written in French, so it did not surprise him that she put it away quickly.

"Certainly." He told her, and then he politely redirected her to the books printed in English.

They ended up spending the rest of the morning holed up in the library. Much to Elizabeth's chagrin, she regretted her early assurances that they could not have the same taste or thoughts towards books. Then she wanted nothing to do with Darcy, and having something in common with him was a terrible thought. Now she was enjoying herself in a way she had never experienced.

The tour of the second floor was forgotten for the time being. They had been there for nearly three hours reading and discussing, when Darcy distinctly heard Elizabeth's stomach growl.

He laughed merrily at her embarrassment. "Should I call for some lunch Miss. Elizabeth?" he asked, but had already stood to find a servant. He found one in the hall, and after a discussion, the two decided that luncheon should be served in the less formal dining room downstairs, where he usually breakfasted with Georgiana.

"You seem to be gaining back you strength remarkably fast Miss. Elizabeth," Darcy commented upon entering the library once more. She looked up from her book.

"I have always been speedy at recovering Mr. Darcy, therefore these physicians orders are absolutely absurd." She stated matter-of-factly.

"Like I told you before, I am merely carrying out orders. Very poorly I might add. You were not to leave your room."

"And like I said, Mr. Darcy: absurd. Had I not been a woman, I would be allowed to do whatever I please as soon as I could walk once more." Elizabeth put down her book and stood as if to demonstrate that she was not the average weak woman she was stereotyped as.

Darcy offered her his arm, and she took it without comment, though he caught a curious glimpse in her eye. "As truthful as your words may be, it is sometimes best to be cautions, rather than make your situation worse."

Elizabeth sighed. "I suppose you are right Mr. Darcy. I admit to feeling uneasy that my memory has still not returned, but I am also afraid of what it is I should be remembering."

He nodded sympathetically. "I am sure it is frustrating. But for now, let us proceed to the ground floor, where luncheon is currently waiting for us."

())}---%----

Her husband was in a foul mood. She knew it was her fault for hiring such an idiotic man, but he had shown great potential, and his first few assignments had gone off without a hitch. This one was, however, very important to him for some reasons she could not comprehend.

No one but her husband and herself knew about their business, and for good reason. No one of their title and class should be involved in such dirty work, and when people found them, it was with great effort on their behalf. His trade business had failed terribly, and in an effort to live up to their new title in life, they started this business. It was seemingly so out of character for them, but in this society, you never knew whose personalities to believe.

As she walked by his study door, which was open, she saw him leaning over his writing desk tending to some sort of letter.

"My dear, it is nearly time for dinner." She reminded him gently as she entered, and he looked up at her.

"He never told me what he did with the driver," her husband said. He was a very jovial man outside of the home, but today he looked worn out and exhausted. He at times despised his line of work, and today seemed to be one of those days.

She shut the door behind her. "You mean what Elisha did with Elizabeth's driver?" she inquired as she approached him.

"Yes." He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "He said he had brought him into the woods alive, but what after that?"

"Even if he is still alive, he can only know that it is Elisha that did it. Elisha is dead, so what does it matter?" Her husband flinched. He hated that he had to kill the man, but it was done, and could not be fixed or undone. She often had to encourage him and found it wearying. She was the main force behind their whole business, but being a woman, no one would take her seriously.

"Come my dear. Let us eat dinner and think of it no longer."


	7. The Garden

_Chapter 7: The Garden_

Luncheon was pleasant, but afterwards, Elizabeth was appalled at herself that she had found it necessary to take a nap.

Her dreams had started off pleasant enough. It was a sunny day, the temperature just right. It wasn't warm enough to incite unwanted perspiration, but not cool enough to shiver unattractively.

_The landscape rolled past the carriage that was empty but one person. Elizabeth observed the rolling hills with barely a thought in their regard. Her thoughts were otherwise engaged with a rather unpleasant subject that had caused a crease of worry to form between her eyebrows. _

_What if she did not make it in time?_

_The thought had plagued her the whole long ride from Hertfordshire. They were just crossing the border of Nottinghamshire into Derbyshire when it happened. The horses whinnied in fright and her driver made an exclamation that mimicked the horses. There was a sudden jolt as the carriage turned to the right in an angle much to sharp. _

_Elizabeth cried out when the carriage started to tip, and a sound of something snapping beneath her met her ears. Were the wheels breaking? That is what it seemed like. Suddenly everything was turned upside down, and in a whirl of confusing colors, shapes, and sounds, the carriage lurched and rolled so that it was completely upside down. The glass in the shaded windows had shattered all around her, and she could feel a few of the pieces penetrate her skin in sharp scattered pains. _

_As soon as it had begun, it had ended. Elizabeth groaned and rolled onto her back, gazing at the seats above her head. It was an odd perspective. Fortunately she did not seem to be hurt much. As she sat up, she wondered what could have caused the carriage to capsize like that._

_She had started to crawl out of the carriage when her path was suddenly blocked by a man of substantial size. He was extremely tall, and extremely muscular. Thinking he was there to help her, she smiled gratefully at him, but also in an embarrassed way._

_That had only made him laugh, and that was when she noticed the large rock in his hand. He raised it and—_

Elizabeth sat up suddenly in her bed, panting in the way she did when she ran through the property at Longborne for too long in blistering heat. She was slightly disoriented that the room was dark, and she realized that she must have fallen asleep right through dinner into the evening.

Her first thought was that poor Mr. Darcy had to dine alone that night. Her second thought was that she needed to get outside.

It was easier said than done. Elizabeth had taken great care to avoid any of the servants, for all of them were probably under Darcy's orders to make sure she did not over exert herself, or that they would report her to him.

He had promised that the gardens would be either tomorrow or the day after, but after he dream, she didn't want to wait any longer. She longed fresh air and the smell of pollen.

Finally she found a door that led to a terrace in the back of the house, and a path that led off to the gardens.

Elizabeth strolled for a while, unaware of how chilled she was, or that she was shaking. Her dream, it seemed, was an actual piece of her memory, restored at a time when her brain was relaxed and not thinking in its usual chaotic way.

She wasn't sure what to make of it. She couldn't remember why it was so important that she get to wherever she got to, nor where she had been headed. But the dream had felt real enough, the emotions had been enough to stir her from her sleep. She had no doubt that it was a real life occurrence. The part that disturbed her most was the man at the end with the mocking smile and huge rock clutched in his over sized hands.

"I thought we had agreed you were to wait at least until tomorrow Miss. Elizabeth," came a voice from behind her, and she whirled around to face Mr. Darcy, who did not look mad at her whatsoever. He in fact looked amused. He also looked concerned as he handed her a blanket. "You must be cold."

Elizabeth accepted it gratefully. "I came out here to think." She told him, breaking away from his gaze to look skyward at the stars. "How many stars do you think there are Mr. Darcy?"

Her question confused him, but he answered it. "More than anyone will be able to count I am sure." Darcy observed her, and instantly knew that something was not right with her. Her eyes held no sparkle of laughter that she was always so ready to give at anytime. She looked troubled, and he was moved by the sudden urge to help her at any cost. "Are you quite alright Miss. Elizabeth?" he asked her quietly.

She turned to look at him. "I had a dream…" she began, trying to decide if she could trust him with the information, but why not? Had he not proven himself worthy time and time again, even when she had refused to see it? "About the carriage accident." Then she proceeded to tell him what had happened.

For Mr. Darcy, when she got to the part about the man with the rock, he was overcome by anger so strong, he had to look away from her so she did not think he was becoming insane. He longed to hunt down this man, but besides his overall size and cruel smile, she could not describe him adequately enough.

"We will find him Lizzy." He swore to her when she was done. "We shall find him, and he will suffer the worst of consequences."

Elizabeth was startled at the informal use of her name, but it did not bother her as it once would have. He didn't seem to notice he had said it, so she said noting about it. She was grateful that he cared enough for her still to swear to avenge her in a way. He was all chivalry, and she was merely a house guest that could do nothing for him in return.

They walked in silence for a while, arm in arm, when they came to a small pond with all different kinds of life inhabiting it. Fish, frogs, insects….

"When I was a very young boy I used to fish in here." Darcy said, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen over them. "My father had forbidden me to keep anything I caught, but one day I came down here with a large bowl I had snuck from the kitchen. It was made of glass. The smallest fish I caught that day was a coy, and I put it in the bowl filled with water and attempted to bring it to my room." He sighed and watched the small orange fish dart back and forth. "I had decided that the fish was going to stay in my room when the bowl had gotten a little too heavy for my six year old self to manage. I dropped it while trying to get up the stairs. The bowl had broken, but I was devastated that I wasn't able to get my fish to safety. It died on the carpet while I looked for something else to put it in. Later that night my father sat me down and taught me one of the first of many lessons about life he would give me. He told me that I could only look after something when I was positive I was responsible enough to do so. That if you were breaking all the rules to win something you wanted, it was wrong. I guess the lesson applied to the fish, and maybe that was all it was intended for, but now as an adult I can not help but think he was wrong."

Elizabeth was not sure what the relevance of his story was, but it seemed to be important to him that he said it. She laughed quietly though, at how different their fathers had been. "My father once told me that breaking the rules is what keeps life interesting."

Darcy looked at her appreciatively. "I'm starting to believe that more and more lately." His gaze changed then, and she saw something in it that frightened her. She searched his face, looking for further clues, anything that indicated what he was thinking.

His eyes were moving over her face rapidly, and he seemed to be struggling with something internal. Elizabeth's heart was pounding far too fast for her to be comfortable, so she turned back into the direction of the house, and since they were still arm in arm, he had no choice but to comply.

The walk back was silent as well. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, it was more like a companionable silence. It continued all the way up to the third floor. She turned to bid him goodnight, but the words were stopped as she saw his expression was much the same as before.

He reached up and slowly tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, his eyes still roaming her face almost hungrily. "Goodnight Lizzy." He said softly, and he quickly retreated into his chambers, leaving a thoroughly confused Lizzy standing in the hall, wondering why on earth she wasn't reprimanding him on such conduct, and why a small smile had somehow managed to force its way onto her face.


	8. Georgiana

_Chapter 8: Georgiana_

"What does she look like Richard?" Georgiana asked, breaking a long but comfortable silence between the two cousins.

Richard looked at her from the other side of the carriage. He didn't answer right away, but he knew of whom she was referring to. Richard had told her everything upon his arrival at the Darcy house situated in London. Since then, Georgiana had been very excited to meet her. She was curious who this woman was, and how she had seemed to win the heart of her brother. Georgiana was one of few who knew the true nature of Fitzwilliam Darcy, and was also aware of the misconceptions that others had about him.

She was very shocked that someone below their station had managed to achieve such a thing. Georgiana was a very kind and generous woman, and she did not mind even the lowest of people, as long as they were nice agreeable people. She believed that people can not help what they are born to, just as she could not help being born into wealth. But her brother was held to high expectations by her family that he had planned to honor, which made this all the more surprising.

Richard had explained to Georgiana already what Elizabeth looked like, and did so again with a knowing smile on his face.

"Oh Richard, is he as different as you say?"

He nodded. "You will hardly recognize your brother. He's turned into quite the romantic, and I think he actually laughed the other day, can you believe it?"

"No!" Georgiana cried in mock scandalization. "I assure you it is true." Richard said, as his cousin looked out the window for the umpteenth time. "We're here Richard!" She cried excitedly. It was still early in the morning, the inhabitants of the house probably only just finishing breakfast.

The carriage rolled to a stop in front of the main doors, and in front of the doors waiting with a large grin on his face was Mr. Darcy. Georgiana waited impatiently for the footman to help her out, and then she nearly ran to her brother. "William!" she cried ecstatic to see her brother for the first time in many months.

She hugged him while he laughed, and she stood back to observe him. He was wearing a carefree smile that suited him well. He had always had a soft spot for Georgiana, so his affection was not a new development. There was, however, a change in him that was displayed through his once carefully guarded smile and polite manners. Now his smile made him seem five years younger, and it reached his eyes as he twirled his sister to get a better look of her.

"Have I not grown William?" she asked him. "I am now past your shoulders!"

Her brother laughed. "My dear, I am sorry to say that you will probably grow no further." He looked over Georgiana at his cousin. "Thank you for delivering her safely Richard," and it was evident that his mind had traveled to Elizabeth (which was not uncommon now a days,) and the accident she had barely four days prior.

Darcy did not miss the fact that Georgiana's eyes were searching the area. "What are you looking for Georgie?" he asked her innocently.

"Where is Miss Bennett? I so wish to meet her." His sister explained. He knew, however, that as soon as a stranger presented herself to Georgiana, she would go quiet as a mouse, and act very shy.

Darcy's smile grew unknowingly bigger as the conversation turned to Elizabeth. A part of him was relieved that he had yet to meet her this morning, after his incredibly inappropriate display the night before. He wondered sadly if she was furious with him.

"Miss Elizabeth has not yet awakened. It is imperative that she get her rest, so we are not expecting her to conform to the rules of society just now." He explained, and his gaze went to the third story window that belonged to her.

His smile grew impossibly bigger when he saw the curtains move. Perhaps she was awake then, and was curious to see the infamous Georgiana Darcy.

"Oh," his sister said, seeming slightly disappointed. However that expression was replaced with one of mischief. "I hear you are falling in love brother. Pray tell, is it true?"

Darcy nearly choked while Richard was trying to hold back a laugh while he half heartedly chastened his cousin. "Georgiana, that is rude." He could not hold back his laugh though when Darcy glared at him.

"I have not the faintest idea what you are talking about Georgiana." Darcy said with as much dignity that he could manage, but he was not fooling anyone. At a desperate attempt to change the topic, he asked his cousin if they had broken their fast that morning.

He was beginning to think inviting his sister may have been a bad idea, purely because she was almost as elated about having Elizabeth over as he was.

())}----%---

Mrs. Bennett sat in her parlor with her three youngest daughters, Maria Lucas and Lady Lucas. It was a particularly warm day in late April and Mrs. Bennett was waving her fan franticly in an effort to drive off the heat, but failing miserably. On and on she prattled about her poor nerves and how she missed her dear Jane.

"She is a lovely one. It is a wonder Mr. Bingley did not make her an offer. No doubt he was persuaded otherwise by his disagreeable friend, Mr. Darcy." Both the Lucas' looked at Mrs. Bennett, then at each other. Maria quickly returned to her conversation with Kitty and Lydia, and Lady Lucas made a gesture of sympathy that only put fuel on the fire that was Mrs. Bennett.

"But only yesterday morning Mr. Bennett was giving me word on a particularly generous deed Mr. Darcy has done for our family, quite out of character as well." Mrs. Bennett said, and she took a long deliberate sip of her tea, wanting her neighbor to inquire as to why such a wealthy man of elevated status would do their family a favor. She was not disappointed.

"Mr. Darcy?" Lady Lucas asked, seeming genuinely shocked. "That man who refused to dance with either of our daughters and, as I recall, slighted young Lizzy?"

"Why yes, the very one!" Mrs. Bennett cried. She closed her fan and pointed it at Lady Lucas, her voice taking on a lower tone that indicated a secret was being told. "It seems he came to the rescue of our Dear Lizzy just in time. She was in a terrible accident, and he is allowing her to stay at his home until she is able to make the journey back to us!"

Mrs. Bennett was too engrossed in her story to notice the puzzled glance Maria gave her mother. She also looked quite hurt. "Of course, now he seems more agreeable and perhaps Mr. Darcy is not the rude man we all thought him to be. But imagine! My Lizzy at Pemberley! Oh, what a thought. He is at the very least generous to have come to our Lizzy's aid. I do wonder why she was in Derbyshire though. Are you sure, my dear, that she said nothing to you?" Mrs. Bennett's question was directed to Maria, who shook her head. She had been asked the question many times. It was something of a scandal for Elizabeth to travel all the way to Derbyshire unaccompanied.

The conversation drifted back to Jane when Mrs. Bennett's thirst for information on her daughter had not been quenched, and after five more visits, the Lucas' returned to Lucas Lodge.

---%----{(()

Elizabeth was embarrassed that Mr. Darcy had caught her spying on his reunion with his sister, but when the sound of a carriage had waken her from her unusually light sleep, she had become curious to see what Georgiana looked like.

She was more beautiful than Elizabeth could believe. While it was evident that she was Mr. Darcy's sister, she had a striking resemblance to her mother, whom Elizabeth had seen a portrait of on the second floor. Mr. Darcy resembled more closely his father.

Georgiana had called him 'William,' and Elizabeth wondered vaguely how he would respond if she called him so informally. She had the sudden thought that he probably would not mind at all, just as she didn't care that he occasionally called her 'Lizzy,' even though it is inappropriate for him to do so.

Elizabeth did not talk much when Sophie came to help her dress, and she ate her breakfast slowly. She was not actually nervous to meet Georgiana. She was in fact very excited. It was Georgiana's brother she dreaded seeing. Elizabeth had still not made up her mind about how she felt about the quiet moment in the dark hallway the night before. It had made her smile yes. Her stomach had also performed unique acrobatic tricks while her heart seemed to beat loudly in her ears. But she wouldn't admit all this to herself.

Her breakfast had only just been cleared away when there came a knock on the door. She knew by instinct who was on the other side of the door, so she half reluctantly, half elatedly answered the door.

There he was, looking handsome as ever. Mr. Darcy bowed to her. "Good morning Miss Elizabeth. I am not sure if you are aware that my cousin and sister arrived only a short while ago," he began, smoothly ignoring the fact that they both knew he had seen her at the window this morning. "Both are impatient to meet with you however. They have requested you join us in the parlor."

Elizabeth only hesitated to answer momentarily. "I would be delighted to."

She joined Mr. Darcy in the hallway, and as they made their way down the stairs, he offered her his arm, as had become a habit in the three short days of her visit. The feeling of ease between them had changed noticeably however, but neither of them would discuss the event that was coming between them.

Upon entering the parlor, Elizabeth observed Georgiana's change in her mannerisms. She suddenly appeared to look very shy and vulnerable, compared to the young girl who had been laughing merrily at a joke her cousin had told mere seconds ago.

Darcy had released Elizabeth's arm before they had entered the room, a gesture that told her he did not want his family getting the wrong idea of the relationship between the two of them.

"Miss Elizabeth, may I introduce to you my sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy?" Mr. Darcy said, and Georgiana stood and curtsied.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Miss Bennett. I have heard so much about you." Georgiana said quietly, averting her gaze.

"Likewise Miss Darcy. I have heard nothing but praise on your behalf." Elizabeth said, smiling at her kindly. "You brother speaks of nothing else." She added.

Mr. Darcy laughed. "I can assure you sister, that I have many subjects I take pleasure in discussing. Miss Elizabeth exaggerates."

Georgiana looked at her brother with an excited smile on her face. Just the small exchange had been enough to confirm her belief in her brothers feelings. Throughout the rest of the morning, she merely only had to observe the two of them to further strengthen her beliefs. Georgiana greatly enjoyed Elizabeth, and would love nothing better than to have her as a sister-in-law. She was comical and witty, but also polite. When Georgiana had asked her advice, she had been more than obliging. But she could not decide if she felt for her brother, the way her brother felt about Elizabeth.

"Richard!" Georgiana called out to her cousin a few minutes after luncheon. Elizabeth, who was still regaining her strength, was being assisted upstairs by Mr. Darcy so that she may rest.

Colonel Fitzwilliam turned to face his cousin with a smile. "Yes my dear?"

"I think we may have a small problem," Georgiana said in a quiet voice.

"Oh, and what is that?" Richard said in a whisper, as if they were children attempting to not be overheard by the adults.

Georgiana laughed quietly at her cousins antics, and said, "I am not sure if Miss Bennett returns my brothers feelings. This is terrible indeed and will not do."

"What do you think we should do?


	9. Fool

_Chapter 9: Fool_

_seems my own arrogance has knocked me off my feet again  
when you know I'm crawling to you as fast as I can  
first teach me to walk and then I'll learn to dance for you like an  
honest clumsy clown  
tripping along the way_

The following days at Pemberley were pleasant ones, though Darcy quickly caught onto his sister and cousin's efforts to leave himself and Elizabeth alone as frequently as possible. He wasn't angry about it, no, but he worried what Elizabeth would think about it. Her feelings toward him had been so eloquently phrased those couple weeks ago that he treaded lightly around her. He did occasionally slip up, however.

"Mr. Darcy, are you following me?" Elizabeth inquired, looking at him over her shoulder with a small smile. He realized he was walking a little too close to her than was considered proper, so he slowed his pace down considerably.

"Guilty as charged, I am afraid." He admitted, but all the while thinking how lovely her hair looked as the sunlight was reflected off of it. It was piled loosely on top of her head, and some locks had managed to escape, curling as they reached towards the ground. He could see the red and yellow hues that were only visible when the sun landed on each strand in a particular way. He started to imagine what it would feel like to take a lock between his fingers, and twist it in different directions so that the sun—

"Are you never going to tire of looking after me Mr. Darcy?" she asked, breaking him out of his thoughts. He refused to allow himself to blush, and he lengthen his stride so that he was strolling besides her now. No need to be encumbered by the various distractions the posterior part of her body had to offer.

"What ever do you mean Miss. Bennett?" he inquired, looking strait ahead. This was getting extremely out of hand and he feared that he would do something rash that one or both of them would regret. He knew that he should keep a proper distance from her, let her recover and allow her to return home, never to see her again, but he couldn't do it. When he wasn't with her, he was thinking longingly of being by her side. When he _was _with her, he thought longingly of a future between the two of them they could never have.

"I am perfectly well now Mr. Darcy, as all have observed. Although my alleged recovery is to extend another week, there is no need for you to keep such a close eye on me."

Darcy nearly laughed out loud. He bit back a smile, not really sure what was so humorous about the situation. Did she honestly believe that this was about her recovery? From what he had gathered, she still remembered his proposal and all the feelings he admitted having for her. Feelings such as those do not simply disappear in an instant. Surely she realized this was so much more that careful surveillance.

Words he wished he could say always came to mind in nearly every instant they were alone, but she always somehow evaded them. Very cleverly too. It was as if she knew it was coming, and was warding it off. The thought saddened him. They carried on with idle conversation, Darcy succumbing to his momentary feelings of failure.

'_Cause I'm reaching for you  
but my arms aren't long enough  
and I'm running to you  
if I could go a little faster_

Another such incident was actually quite embarrassing. Richard had caught him admiring Lizzy in such an inappropriate way that Darcy could not help but being appalled at himself. It was not how he had been brought up, to be so blatant and crude about his affection towards a woman. Luckily Elizabeth did not notice and continued on with her pleasant conversation with Georgiana. The two were becoming fast friends.

Richard stood behind the women in question with a huge smile and eyes crinkled in laughter. Darcy glared at him but knew that were the situation reversed, he would probably take humor in the situation as well.

Elizabeth had looked up from her needle work, catching Mr. Darcy's expression. "Whatever is the matter Mr. Darcy?" she inquired, and Georgiana looked up as well, looking between her brother's disgruntled expression, and her cousins amused one. She smiled.

"Mr. Darcy is just extremely annoyed." Richard supplied, and Darcy shot him a warning glance. "An extremely pleasant activity was just taken from him."

In a mixture of feelings not entirely explainable, Darcy stood up rather quickly, shooting yet another glare towards his cousin, then looked around the room in confusion. He realized that his behavior was odd, but the only person who seemed to think so was Elizabeth. She looked up at him with concern, and he thought ironically for a moment that she might have to start looking after him. It didn't sound all too bad, and it shouldn't be too hard to fake a cold….

What was he thinking?

Mr. Darcy excused him self hurriedly, striding out of the room and down the stairs. He didn't stop until he exited the back door into the gardens that had just started to be touched by the moonlight. There was still evidence of the sun on the horizon, but it was no longer in sight. Night was fast approaching, and Darcy feared hew as going insane. What would he do if he could not win her over?

_and I'm crying to you  
but I can't hear my own voice  
and I am waiting for you  
and trying not to fall asleep now_

"William?" a familiar voice called through the hallways. Georgiana exited the house to see her brother clenching the edge of a stone railing, overlooking the beautiful gardens she had spend so much time in as a young girl. "William, are you feeling quite alright?" she asked, reaching out to place a consoling hand on her brother's shoulder. He did not shun it, but showed no indication that he had felt it either.

It had been many moments before he asked her question. His voice was had evident traces of pain. He had pondered on his words for too long, the question that had haunted him for weeks. _What if he couldn't win her over?_

"I'm trying Georgie." He said quietly, finally looking over at his sister whose blonde hair looked eerie in the moonlight. "I'm trying so hard." He whispered, looking up at the near full moon.

"I know." Georgiana said quietly, leaning onto his shoulder. For years he had been the one there to comfort her. She greatly took up the opportunity to return the favor. "Just give her time."

"I don't have time," he said, a little more hostile than he had intended. He tried to give her a small smile when she flinched at his words, but it was no use. She saw right through him. "She's gone in a week. A _week, _Georgiana. That's hardly enough time. And we still have not found whoever is responsible for her accident in the first place."

Georgiana stepped forward and whispered quietly into his ear, "Maybe you should use that as a reason for her to stay."

The suggestion was one that sparked interest in Darcy, but he was still too morose to act on it now, or think about it too much. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts for a while, and his sister seemed to realize this. She kissed him on the cheek gently and bid goodnight to her brother.

How far was he willing to go?

_cause I'm clumsily dancing away this fear  
I'm stumbling closer to you and I am  
tumbling over my pride  
I will be a fool for you_

Elizabeth had not meant to. Once the Darcy's had left her alone with Richard, she found no more interest in being downstairs and bid goodnight to Richard. He smiled at her in a way that made her curious, and while she made her way out of the parlor, her ponderings were interrupted by a sudden frustrated outburst coming from somewhere outside. She was obviously not supposed to hear such a private conversation between two confidents, but the words were hard to ignore, and she had no choice but to continue in her direction, otherwise be forced back into the parlor.

"I don't have time." His familiar voice said in a tone that made her sad. It sounded heartbroken. She tried to walk faster, having the feeling that she didn't want to hear what came next. "She's gone in a week. A _week, _Georgiana. That's hardly enough time." Elizabeth started to run. She knew what was the cause of the heartbreak in Darcy's voice, and she felt terrible that she was the root of it.

A person cannot control their feelings towards another person when the feelings are so strong. Never had she even dreamed that Darcy's emotions towards her had been like this. The proposal that felt so long ago had made it seem he had not been completely serious with her due to the way he had acted then. But she had acted so harshly towards him as well, and hadn't her opinion of him grown into admiration of late?

Elizabeth reached her door with a sudden realization. She turned around to find the large window at the top of the grand staircase that overlooked the gardens of Pemberley. She looked down and saw him still standing there, in a posture that was one he took on outside of his own home, of his comfort zone.

Why did she have to choose that moment to walk by? Why were her emotions and every sensible thought turning against her and all she had believed to be true of people and, more specifically, the higher class. She watched him for longer than she would have believed, and he finally turned once more to enter into the house. Her eyes moved to the moon, too shocked at herself to move an inch. Too late she realized that Darcy would be headed up those very stairs she was standing in front of to reach his own bed chambers.

_what are you thinking as you look down on me are you  
frustrated with my inconsistency  
or intrigued that I can find the will to get back up or  
maybe all of this is simply amusing_

Darcy really doubted this is what he needed at the moment, but there she was with her back turned to him, gazing out into the night. He stopped halfway up the stairs, unsure if he should continue on, bid her goodnight like a gentleman and continue to his rooms, or if he should turn around and run for his life. The coward in him wanted to choose the latter.

Too late, however, for she had turned and saw him there.

Moments extended into eons as they merely stood there; she with an expression of shock and guilt and he with his foot still on the next step in preparation to continue his ascension. The ridiculousness of this situation was lost on both of them. He took in the red around her eyes, like she had been crying or was trying not to. He wanted to know what was wrong, to comfort her. But methods of comfort could only go so far in propriety, and he knew from experience that they did little to help.

The guilt in her eyes only confused him, but he had time in his calculating thoughts to note how devastatingly beautiful she looked. He always seemed to have time to do so. But he was unable to tolerate the silence much longer, so he took the next step up the stairs. "Miss. Elizabeth," he bowed slowly, never breaking eye contact with her.

_cause I'm reaching for you  
but my arms aren't long enough  
and I'm running to you  
if I could go a little faster_

His words broke her out of her thoughts, and she looked away from his eyes, looking for anything else to capture her interest. However the candlelight offered minimal visibility in the dark hall, so she had no choice but to look at him. "Mr. Darcy," her words came out quietly.

He had nothing to say to her, or rather, he knew not what to say to her. Surely he should just bid her goodnight and be on his way, but something kept him rooted to the spot. After a couple seconds reflection, he realized it was hope. Something in her sudden change had given him reason to hope, although he could not pinpoint exactly what it was. He took another step up the stairs. She did not move.

"I was just admiring the garden at night." She said suddenly, and her words came out so fast, he imagined them tumbling over each other in their haste. He smiled slightly, and she seemed to realize that just two nights ago they had walked among the gardens at night, so it was not a new sight to her eyes, nor was it a new sentiment.

Darcy nodded in agreement, taking another step. "Yes, they are very beautiful," not even sparing a glance towards the window, but thinking more along the lines of her big brown eyes. She took a small step back towards the windows, then seemed to decide that she wanted to look at the gardens some more. She turned her back to him and looked out the window.

_and I'm crying to you  
but I can't hear my own voice  
I am waiting for you  
and trying not to fall asleep now_

Silently he closed the distance between them once more and took his place beside her at the window. Both of them were reflected in it, and after a few minutes, he diverted his eyes to look at her reflection, only to find her reflection to be staring at him.

Somehow the fact that neither was facing each other made them braver, and he offered her reflection a smile, one that she couldn't help but return.

The moment was so beautiful; something of an understanding seemed to flow between them in that moment and he would not have traded it for anything. They stood there, smiling at each others reflections, only to have that moment shattered by the light sound of women's slippers on the stairs.

"Good night Elizabeth," Georgiana said as she came to the top of the stairs and the two had turned to greet her. Elizabeth returned the wish, and Georgiana turned so that only her brother could see her face. "Sleep well brother." She said, giving him a big smile in encouragement. Darcy smiled back and watched her make her way towards her room. Then he turned to face Elizabeth once more.

_cause I'm clumsily dancing away this fear  
I'm stumbling closer to you and I'm  
tumbling over my pride  
I will be a fool for you_

"I should retire to my chambers as well." Elizabeth said suddenly, "Good night Mr. Darcy." She added with a curtsey, and did not stay long enough to witness his stunned expression and force of habit bow. He turned and watched the trails of her skirt disappear around the corner.

A sudden thought occurred to him. If he did not act on moments such as the one they had just experienced, he did not stand a chance. Something in her expression and actions that night had given him hope, and he trusted his instincts enough.

He followed her with the intent of re-confessing all his feelings with hopefully a better result than the last time. This plan, however, was not quite what had happened.

He rounded the corner, and just as she had reached her door, he cried out her name. "Lizzy!"

She turned to face him, startled at the abruptness and form of address he had used. She did not seem angry about it though, as she had not the couple other times he had addressed her so informally.

He crossed the small gap between them in only a few steps, and stopped to look at her, trying to find the words. It was when she looked up at him that he completely forgot all about… everything. Propriety, the fact that Richard and Georgiana could appear at any second, as well as the staff. He could only seem to comprehend the woman in front of him, who had rejected him once, and had managed to come back into his life, despite the terrible circumstances. He forgot that there could be consequences for his actions, many of which could cause more emotional pain then he cared to think about. But at the moment he did not care, and he reached a hand up to cup the side of her face.

"Lizzy," he whispered, and the words came out almost pleadingly. Then he bent down, closing the near foot long gap between them, and brushed his lips with hers oh so gently.

At first she didn't move, obviously in shock over his actions. Then she slowly started to respond. The feeling Darcy received was none he had ever experienced before. Never in his nine and twenty years had he been kissed by a woman so intimately, and it was, he decided, the best feeling in the world.

He was unsure how long they stood in that dark hallway, encouraged by the silence that was only interrupted by their breathing and pounding hearts. But when she finally broke away from him, just before the kiss would become far more than inappropriate, she bit down on her lip and looked him in the eyes.

"Lizzy," he breathed once more, returning her gaze with all the emotion he had been struggling to fight back for days.

"That was wrong Mr. Darcy," she said, trying to sound reprimanding but it was in vain. She was too flushed, and there was too much light in her eyes to give off any inkling of seriousness.

Darcy's forehead was touching hers, and he shook his head slowly. "I think that was the most right thing I have ever had the extreme pleasure to do in my entire life." He told her with a smile. They both know that in the opinion of society it was wrong, but neither could deny the truthfulness of what he had said.

"Mr. Darcy-" she began slowly, but he interrupted her.

"Call me William," he said quietly, suddenly hating the forced formality between them.

She pretended she did not hear his interruption, however. "You do realize the consequences of your actions?" she asked him, looking at him in curiosity.

He knew what she was referring to. Now that they had engaged in such a scandalous activity, he was expected to take up the obligation of asking her hand in marriage. He smiled at her in obvious joy. How could she think that was a consequence, as though he were being punished?

"I would gladly make you my wife Elizabeth. You know this already."

She seemed to be struggling with herself, and he wondered if she could honestly deny anything now that the proof of all he had been fighting for had been explained in that one kiss.

"I—I need some time to think. Excuse me Mr. Darcy." She said, and opened her door. Just as she disappeared, Darcy thought bitterly how foolish he had been.

_and I'm clumsily dancing away this fear  
I'm stumbling closer to you and I'm  
tumbling over my pride  
I will be a fool for you_

**Sophie**

_Three days previously_

Sophie was out in Matlock, making purchases her master had told her to make. 'Anything necessary for Miss. Bennett's comfort' he had told her. Well she wasn't sure what that had meant, and she was uncomfortable with the amount of money Mr. Darcy had entrusted in her. Just knowing she had that much money made her want the beautiful dresses out of her reach even more.

She was purchasing an elegant hair brush made of cherry wood when she approached by a man she had never seen before. She supposed that once upon a time he had been attractive, but old age and most likely stress had caught up with him, and he looked older than she guessed he was.

"Miss Sophie, isn't it?" he asked quietly as she was walking out of the shop with the purchase for her temporary mistress. She stopped dead and looked at him questioningly.

"How did you know that?" she inquired, trying to sound brave but inside she was panicking. The man before her made her feel uneasy, and having grown up in a constant state of near poverty, she trusted her instincts were developed well enough to be able to trust them.

The man shook his head as if to say 'Such things are not important.' "Let me introduce myself. My name is Mr. Bernard, and I will advise you to pay very close attention to me. The lives of your siblings depend on it."

Sophie looked up at him, feeling her stomach drop. Her siblings were her life. Since her mother had died of influenza, she had taken up the obligation of rasing the children while her father was away on business since she was the oldest. Working for Mr. Darcy had been just the kind of job she had needed to help her father with the task of providing for five children. Now somehow this man knew about them, and he was threating them.

Sophie swallowed uncomfortably. Her throat had suddenly gone dry, and her tongue seemed to be ten times heavier. "I'm listening sir."

"You are currently in employment for the infamous Mr. Darcy, are you not?"


	10. Screams

**A/N: So this story started really fast for me. I had the first seven chapters done in about five days, but now I feel like I've hit a wall, and whatever creative flow I was riding for this story seems to be nearly gone. I'm updating because of the overwhelming about of reviews and hits this story's getting, but if it seems slightly out of whack, or the story changed tones or anything, let me know. I really apologize for the delay, and most likely future delays, in updating. Blame it on writers block.**

**Chapter 10: Screams**

Mr. Darcy paced his room that night, wondering how he could've been so-so- uncivilized and presumptuous. He was torn between self loathing, extreme chagrin and ecstasy. However wrong his exchange with Elizabeth had been, it was as if the ends very nearly justified the means. It was one of the most exhilarating experiences of his life.

He wondered what Elizabeth thought of him now. What little favor he had gained with her in the past few days was probably gone now, and that thought haunted him all the way though his dreams that night. That is, until he was awaken rather suddenly in the earliest hours the next morning.

())}-%-

Lizzy closed the door behind her, and immediately leaned against it. She heard the few extra seconds it took for Darcy to take his leave, and a part of her wanted to open the door and kiss him again.

She was absolutely aghast at the turn of her emotions towards the man, and it scared her as well. Had she not been so bitterly hateful of him mere weeks ago? Now she was thinking indecent thoughts about him and engaging in wonderful, forbidden, disgraceful acts. Lizzy had never been a strict conformist when it came to laws of society and propriety, infact she frequently laughed at them in contempt, but this was one rule she never thought she would have the gull to break.

Even more shockingly was that Mr. Darcy, one of the most eligible and respectful bachelors in the country had risked it all, and had forsaken all his lessons, just for her. The thought made her weak in the knees, and a little dizzy. Or was she still suffering from the consequences of her accident?

It did not matter. She was in a position that any woman her age, and perhaps even greatly older women, would give anything to be in. She had Mr. Darcy bound to her, so that he could not avoid the fact that did she wish to marry him, he must…. Not that that fact seemed to vex him. She was the one who was having doubts. Could she really be happy with a man such as he? Was he everything he appeared to be since he rescued her? Or was it a façade, and all her preconceived notions were the ones to trust?

Lizzy called for Sophie and remained silent as the slightly younger girl assisted her in dressing for bed. She hardly noticed the look of fear in the girls eyes, but did notice how her hands shook. After a few moments, the frequent shaking broke through Lizzy's thoughts, and she turned to look at the girl as she untied her corset.

"Are you quite alright Miss. Sophie?" she inquired, watching the young woman stumble with a know.

"Not quite feeling myself miss," her voice trembled as well, and Elizabeth wondered if she was becoming ill. "I apologize for the disturbance."

"My comfort is of little importance. Finish with my corset and you may leave Sophie." Elizabeth said, sweeping all her hair over one shoulder. "Get some sleep, I can finish dressing myself."

Once Sophie was gone, Elizabeth pulled her nightgown on and went into her chambers, dropping onto the bed with a huff. What was she supposed to say in the morning? Could she even look him in the eye without making a fool of herself?

She rolled over and, not even bothering with the covers, fell into a fitful sleep.

Her dreams we normal at first; only to be expected. Her mind replayed the incident with Mr. Darcy, and the more she relived it the more she let herself admit that she had rather enjoyed it, even in her sleep. But then her dreams turned to something more gruesome, and swirls of color made her head throb and her heart race. The colors spun faster and faster until she felt as if she were going to get sick. Then her eyes opened.

Lizzy started at the ceiling, feeling worse than she could ever remember feeling. The world around her was spinning and, when she sat up to attempt a trip to the water closet, there was the dark outline of a man in the corner of her room.

Elizabeth froze in fear, knowing that there was something familiar about this man, but she could barely make out his face. She hastily moved to the other side of the bed, promptly falling to the floor with a thud that was absorbed into the thick carpet.

The man started to come closer, and soon she was backed against the far wall, with no way out except perhaps the window. It was always an option, probably less painful than whatever this man had planned.

She reached up with her right arm slowly to push the window open, her mind still spinning. Lizzy could feel the blood pulsing behind her eyelids, and as soon as her hand made contact with the window, the man lunged for her. In his had was a giant boulder, like the one from her carriage accident. Only this one was bigger, and angular and jagged.

Lizzy screamed.

-%-{(()

Darcy heard the scream, and fear shot through his system and he was instantly jumping out of bed and bounding out of his chambers into the hall. Richard made it into the hall at the same time as he did, yelling something even further down the hall to Georgiana about staying where she was. Darcy was yanking open the door to Elizabeth's room before Richard was even out of his door.

He stopped just in the doorway, only pausing in shock long enough for Richard to catch up, then they both got to Elizabeth.

She was screaming and writhing, her eyes were watering and she was clawing at her face with her fingers, drawing blood in some places. Her legs kicked at them violently, and Darcy had to jump over at least one limb to get to her.

"Lizzy!" he said, as soothingly as he could manage, and pinning her arms to her side so she couldn't harm herself anymore. Her eyes were staring in his direction, but they seemed to be looking through him, at something that wasn't there.

Richard assisted with holding her legs down as Darcy continued to try and get a response from her, the whole time fighting off strong feelings he wasn't ready to face, and couldn't until the situation was under control. "Lizzy, you must stop. Look at me Elizabeth."

"Help me!" she gasped, her back arching and contorting as she tried to get away from Mr. Darcy. There was a layer of perspiration on her brow, making her hair stick all over her face.

"Yes, yes I'm here," Darcy said, his voice strained as he stroked the side of her face. "You're fine, it's gone,"

Her eyes locked on his then, and for a moment it seemed like she recognized him. She was panting and her eyes left his to start darting everywhere, up, down, left, right. Her teeth locked together audibly and she moaned in pain.

"Is he gone?" she asked him, and Darcy was extremely tempted to ask who was gone.

"Yes, he's gone," he told her despite his urge, watching as she stopped fighting back, but was apparently suffering from great pain. She licked a cut on her lip, still frantically looking about the room as if she was making sure whoever it was really wasn't there.

"Lizzy, look at me, only me," he insisted, gently taking hold of her jaw and turning her to face him. He knew that when one looked for the demons, one found them. He wasn't sure what was wrong with her, but knew there were any number of explanations and he wasn't going to risk anything. So he made her look at him, and quietly told Richard to call the apothecary.

When his cousin left the room, Darcy debated with himself for a while, still trying to sooth Elizabeth, who was still in great pain, but mostly holding still and staying focused on him.

Her eyes looked away for a mere second and she whimpered, eyes widening in fear, seeing something over his shoulder that wasn't really there. "Lizzy, look at me" he reminded her quietly. "He isn't there."

They continued like this for nearly an hour while they waited for the apothecary to be roused and make his way to Pemberley. Darcy really wanted to just pull her onto his lap and hold her, but someone could come in at any moment and the last thing he needed was to be gossiped about.

At one point he thought to feel her head, something he remembered his mother doing when he was little. He wasn't sure what felt right, but he was positive that Lizzy was not that. Her head was hot to the touch, and she even started to shiver a little. Darcy grew extremely concerned, trying to decide whether or not she needed a blanket or to stay cool. He had very little interest in medicine, therefore not studying it as thoroughly as other subjects.

Finally a man entered the doorway, introducing himself to Mr. Darcy who didn't even care enough to remember his name. He moved out of the way, but never took his eyes off of Elizabeth, except for when his cousin laid a hand on his shoulder consolingly. He looked up at Richard momentarily, to see pity in his eyes.

The pity made him wonder how transparently concerned he seemed.

It was going to be a long morning.

())}-%-

"miss Bennett is extremely lucky," The apothecary said a few hours later in Darcy's study. The door was closed, and a maid was keeping watch on Elizabeth while she suffered a fitful sleep in her rooms. It was nearing eight in the morning, and Darcy couldn't sit still. He hadn't wanted to leave her alone, but knew it was necessary to figure out what exactly had happened to her.

"How so?" Darcy asked the man, standing with his arm propped on the mantle of his fireplace. He had to keep reminding himself not to tap his foot so obnoxiously, which was a nervous habit of his.

"Someone slipped Miss. Bennett a poison, but the amount was not high enough to really kill her, thankfully. What you witnessed were violet hallucinations. They commonly contain a darker part of ones past or imagination, a phobia of sorts. You say she was in an accident about a week or two ago, so it is likely that is what she was experiencing." The man, Mr. Travers, took off his glasses and wiped them slowly on his jacket. He was very old, and most likely nearing the end of his career. Darcy wondered if he would ever get to that age, or simply die of stress.

He was suddenly furious at himself, and whoever did this to Elizabeth. He wasn't sure why someone would be so determined to kill her, but somehow they had gotten into his home and endangered not only her life (which was enough to make him furious to begin with) but also the lives of his family. His home was supposed to be safe, how could this have happened?

He felt another urge to run up to her and apologize profusely, but he remained where he stood. "Will she recover?" he asked, wondering if it would prolong her stay at Pemberly, the only positive side of this whole situation.

"As long as she drinks fluids and doesn't over exert herself, the toxin should be gone within a couple days. Keep an eye on her for any returned symptoms, but there isn't much you can do for her."

Darcy thanked the man and escorted him to the door himself. Then he went back up to the third floor and just stood outside the door to her room, wondering just how far this was going to go.


	11. Bewitched

**Ahhh, so nobody go too hard on me, okay? I know I haven't updated in a horrendously long amount of time. When I say I was struggling with writers block, I wasn't kidding. I must've opened up a new word document a thousand times, but closed it again having no idea where to start. You see, I put myself in a sticky situation. Lizzy and Darcy just had their first kiss, and obviously the feelings surrounding that are chaotic, and then the poison incident… oh man. But I have a plan, and before people criticize me on my historical accuracy, the only research I did for this besides reading pride and prejudice (many many many times =D ) was geography, so I'm just going with the flow, my flow. **

**Oh, and someone mentioned that the apothecary wouldn't know it was a poison because they don't have tox screens? Well, its pretty much common sense. If you have a fever, the chills, nausea and whatnot, you can assume you have the flu right? Well same type of deal here.**

**Oh, and in this chapter (sorry, quick insignificant spoiler) there is a letter from Jane. I feel like I did a horrendous job catching her tone, so I just tried to make the letter sound sisterly. Sorry if it's a bit too unlike Jane.**

**Without further ado, I give you chapter 11 (I know I know… finally!)**

_Bewitched_

Darcy wondered if Elizabeth was awake. Just a week ago he could not have imagined himself to be in this kind of position, but here he was, staring at her door knowing that a whole plethora of rules were the only thing preventing him from entering her chambers. However he wasn't sure what he would do once he got to that point. Demand she tell all about her feelings for Darcy, if she was as affected by the kiss as he himself was, or if she was still of the same opinion as her stay in Kent? Or perhaps he would just hold her and comfort her. She'd been through an ordeal that seems as unlikely as Darcy growing wings and flying away.

He sighed and leaned against the far wall. The third floor was silent, its only inhabitants in the breakfast parlor no doubt talking of the mornings dramatic events. He knew not how long he was sitting there, but eventually he realized he could hear the sounds of someone crying silently. At first he thought it Elizabeth, but it was not coming from her room, but rather down the hall and around the corner.

Intrigued, Darcy made his way over and peered around the corner to see a young girl sitting on a decorative chair, holding her head in her hands and crying. He realized with a shock it was the young girl he had put in Elizabeth's services. "Miss Charnock?" he said softly.

The young girl, Sophie, jumped up in surprise, hastily curtsied and wiped her eyes. "Forgive me Mr. Darcy," she said, her voice quivering. She could not look him in the eyes, and Darcy wondered if she was so attached to her temporary mistress that the morning's events distressed her as much as they did Darcy. _He _certainly felt like he could cry, not that he would ever do such a thing.

He walked over to her, prepared to attempt to console her, though he was confounded as to the cause of her tears. He had no idea how to begin, so the first thing he could think of to say was extremely unhelpful. "Have you checked up on Miss. Bennet as of late?"

Sophie bit her lip, her eyes watering again. She choked back a sob and suddenly—" Oh Mr. Darcy! I-I am so s-sorry! I did not want—Want to do it sir, but- but my brothers and s-sisters! He told me he—he said he would kill them!" All these words came out in a rush, only resulting in the girl crying harder if possible.

Darcy was pretty sure he understood, and he felt fury rising up inside of him. So some man had blackmailed this poor girl into slipping Elizabeth the hallucinogen? He threatened to kill her siblings if she did not comply? Darcy's jaw clenched and he fought the impulse to turn on his heels and fetch the nearest law enforcement, but he needed more details.

He quickly but gently guided the girl into the chair, telling her to take deep breaths and tell him everything, all the while wondering why she didn't just alert him to the promise she had made to an absolute stranger. He more than adequately provided protection for her family until the culprit was found.

Through her tears and frequent sobs she told him of the man who called himself Mr. Bernard, making sure she worked for Mr. Darcy of Pemberly, who was currently housing the one and only Miss. Elizabeth Bennet. He had given her the small vial with instructions for it to be placed in her nighttime tea, then to report to him by noon at the same spot.

Darcy knew what he needed to do. But first he sent the girl in to make sure Elizabeth was still sleeping, then he swiftly guided her down to his office, where Richard was sent for immediately.

-%-{(()

It was a particularly warm day in this first week of May. The sun was highest in the sky, not a cloud to be seen. Darcy and Richard were in the back of a fabric shop, keeping one eye on the pub across the street, where an anxious Sophie Charnock stood by the door wringing her hands.

Richard shook his head slightly, running a fine green cloth between his fingers. "She may well be cursed cousin. Have you ever known one woman to have such bad luck?" he inquired without really expecting an answer. Darcy was not even trying to look inconspicuous. He stood half behind a shelf, watching the young girl with scary intensity, hoping the so called Mr. Bernard would be foolish enough to show up. If he was, he was either an armature, new to the game of scheming and all things repulsive, or he was hired by someone rich enough to do so.

The Colonel sighed for the umpteenth time, walking round to the front of the shop and seriously considering an cream colored cravat when Darcy took five long strides pointedly out to the streets. Richard looked out the door to see a man with a rather grotesque black beard and top hat talking suspiciously to Sophie. He immediately followed his cousin, who waited momentarily for Richard, then indicated he move behind the man, should he attempt to make a run for it.

"Mr. Bernard!" Darcy said in his deep commanding voice, not trying to hid the fury he felt knowing he was behind at least last nights portion of Elizabeth's recent traumatic experiences. The man looked over, comprehension taking a few seconds to dawn on him. His eyes widened, and just as Darcy reached the two, he reached out and shoved Sophie roughly into Darcy, who had no choice but to catch the falling girl, or be knocked over himself.

He grunted as all the air was taken from his lungs, struggling to detangle himself from the young girl, looking round for his cousin, whom he could not see. Mr. Bernard was running north, turning heads of the dumbfounded townsfolk. "Richard!" He bellowed, but there was no point. At that moment the Colonel appeared out of no where, sticking his foot out in Bernard's path. The man fell at an alarming speed and Darcy watched as one hand flew out wildly to catch himself, also seeing it twist and Richard's slight cringe at the noise it must've made.

Darcy left the girl to her own devices to assist his cousin. The closest man of authority had been alerted and was making his way towards the trio. Upon seeing the respectable Mr. Darcy, the man immediately had the situation assessed that Bernard on the ground was not the victim of raucous sport.

"What is going on here gentlemen?" He inquired, watching Darcy glare at the man on the ground with pure hatred and contempt, and Richard restraining the man with a foot placed strategically on the small of the back.

Darcy desperately wanted to beat Bernard within an inch of his life, but instead he informed the constable of the current situation at his home, who agreed Bernard should be submitted to questioning, which should also take place in the privacy of Pemberly.

"Darcy," Richard murmured, pulling his cousin aside. "You are not yet in control of your emotions cousin. Let me handle the investigation." He suggested. Darcy opened his mouth to protest, but was silenced by a consoling hand on his shoulder and a nod towards the stairs. Darcy narrowed his eyes at his cousin, knowing his weakness had finally been found. But if there was anything he wanted to do more at that moment then follow his cousin into the study, it was to see Elizabeth.

So he made his way up the stairs, only stopped once by a footmen with a letter come from Cheapside for Elizabeth, giving him at least somewhat of an excuse to call on her.

At that precise moment, Lizzie was staring out her window feeling decidedly depressed. Upon waking this morning hallucination frees, she remembered a bit more of her accident, or rather the great mystery surrounding her reasons for being so far north.

The last few weeks of her stay in Kent had been eventful to be sure; the most notable event being Mr. Darcy's proposal, which she now regretted her rash actions and cruel words. But it was during those couple weeks she became concerned that she had not heard from Jane. Four of her own letters had gone unanswered, and she knew Jane would at least write a little, if she was so frequently engaged as to not write a respectful amount. But three weeks had gone by with no word, and combined with her emotional distress from Darcy's proposal and letter, she was becoming irrational concerning her sister.

Then the letter had come. It was written in unknown handwriting, and explained the hostage situation Jane was in, and that Lizzie should come alone and tell no one, should she wish to see her eldest sister again.

Looking back Lizzie realized how foolish she had been, knowing that if Jane really had gone, her aunt and uncle would have informed her father, and Lizze would have been called home post haste. Yet, it had been a very descriptive letter, and she had yet to hear from Jane….

There came a knock on her door, and there was no doubt in her mind who would be on the other side. Elizabeth could not remember much of the mornings events, except for the pure terror she had felt at one point, and how incredibly safe she had felt looking into Mr. Darcy's eyes, who stayed with her for over an hour, refusing to let her look at the evils that were not really there. She knew she couldn't lie to herself about her feeling for him anymore, but she still felt her pride get in her way. To confess her feelings would mean she had to admit she was wrong, something she did not like doing.

Lizzie walked slowly to the door, aware that there were still faint red lines on her face from what she assumed was herself. On her hair line there were a few scabs as well, where she had managed to break the skin. She dreaded seeing his expression when he gazed upon her face, but at the same time she wanted to open the door.

So she did, running a hand through her hair and turning the knob slowly….

Darcy had to frequently stop himself from wringing Lizzie's letter in his hands. He felt anxious and nervous suddenly, hearing her make her way to the door, stepping on a loose floor board, turning the door knob…. His heart was pounding in his ears, but he managed to pull a smile onto his face, even when the door opened to reveal Elizabeth, looking exhausted with those horrid red lines crisscrossing around her face.

She curtsied, unable to meet his eyes, but he just cleared his throat and said, "Good afternoon Miss. Elizabeth," he bowed, and the formality almost physically hurt, after what had transpired last night… "A letter just came for you from I believe the eldest Miss. Bennet," He couldn't help but smile when she looked up at the letter he was offering her with what seemed to be pure relief.

"Oh, thank you Mr. Darcy," she said gratefully, opening the door wider. "Would you like to come in? I was just about to call for tea…" she blushed mildly, perhaps expecting him to decline her invitation, but he smiled reassuringly and told her he would love to join her for tea if she were feeling up to it.

She lead him into her ajoining parlor, already opening her letter before she looked over her shoulder at him. "Do you if I read my letter Mr. Darcy? I haven't heard from my sister in so long," she said wistfully.

He chuckled, going to ring for some tea. "Not at all Miss. Elizabeth, by all means," and without further ado, she sat in a chair across the table from him, her eyes moving quickly over the letter, and her smile getting bigger all the while.

It read:

_My Lizzie,_

_You cannot believe the scare you have given me! I cannot even begin to convey the depth of my confusion. What were you doing so far north? But of course you have already explained that you do not remember. I have corresponded with mama and papa, having receiving their letter almost immediately after yours. Our poor father finds himself once more having to deal with mama's nerves. I almost pity Mary, Kitty, and Lydia for having to deal with our mother on their own!_

_But beyond my concern for your well being (I hope you find yourself in better health then upon writing your letter to me) is my shock at you staying with Mr. Darcy! Oh Lizzie, did I not say we may have misjudged him? But then, who are we to believe? Mr. Wickham's account of Mr. Darcy ,whom he has known his whole life, or your own first hand account? It is all so confusing! Our aunt has expressed to be the beauty and splendor of the Pemberly estate, and we all envy you Lizzie, except for the circumstances that brought you there. _

_I do hope your memory returns to you soon Lizzie, as we are all curious why you were traveling through Derbyshire. You were incorrect in assuming my thoughts had jumped to matrimony so fast Lizzie, in fact you should know me better then that. Although, it is you who brought it up, which leads me to wonder why you, sister, are thinking of it! _

_I will certainly shorten my stay here in town to stay with you in Pemberly if it will make you more comfortable. Send word in your return letter, along with your hopefully improved health._

_God Bless,_

_Jane._

When she had finished, tea had just arrived. "I trust your sister is in good health?" Darcy inquired, watching her fold up the letter with a small smile.

"Oh yes, thank you," Elizabeth said, taking a sip of her tea. The silence that fell was awkward. Neither knew which subject was of most importance, and so they each stirred their tea with their own little internal arguments.

"Last night—"Lizzie finally began when she had the courage to speak of it, just as Mr. Darcy began, "This morning—"

They smiled at each other, and Lizzie indicated that he should continue, having no idea where she was going to take her conversation anyways. What was she going to tell him? That she'd been wrong all along and of course she'd marry him? Absurd.

Darcy cleared his throat. "This morning I managed to figure out what had transpired to create the um, rather unpleasant events of earlier this morning," he began, capturing her attention. He went through the story of finding Sophie crying in the hallway, and how they managed to bring Mr. Bernard into custody, but failing to mention the aforementioned man was in the manor at that moment being questioned by a constable and his cousin.

Lizzie sat quietly for a moment, and then looked at Darcy confusedly. "Do you think whoever hired this Mr. Bernard to be connected to the carriage accident Mr. Darcy? That could not have been just a coincidence, I haven't that many enemies."

Darcy leaned back in his chair, his eyebrows creasing to meet, and running a hand through his hair. "No, I was thinking the same thing. I am certain that whoever hired Mr. Bernard was behind your carriage incident. What I cannot figure out is who would do this, and why. I cannot imagine you have done something so bad," he said with a small smile at her.

Lizzie shrugged, clearly at a loss for what she could have done, and then she filled Mr. Darcy in on what she remembered that morning. She finished explaining only to be met by silence. Darcy looked deep in thought, and she did not wish to interrupt his thinking. But became worried about the letter concerning Jane before her accident. It may have been a lie then, but this person obviously had the power to make those events a reality. Lizzie decided to warn Jane in her next letter to be extra cautious and diligent, when Darcy's sudden movement made her jump slightly. He had leaned forward towards her, looking genuinely concerned.

"How are you feeling Lizzie?" His voice was low and there was an expression in his eyes she had yet to get used to. It was amazing how he could seamlessly go from being Mr. Darcy, Master of Pemberly, to Fitzwilliam Darcy, transparently hopelessly in love. It caught her off guard every time.

Lizzie blinked at his sudden proximity, even though he was on the other side of the table from her. "I feel parched and a little nauseous, but nothing I haven't become accustomed to the past week or so," she told him, wondering what her expression told him. She knew not where her next speech came from, she supposed it was a combination of all her chaotic thoughts the past week, but none the less, she opened her mouth, breaking the silence to say, "Mr. Darcy, I cannot thank you enough for all you have done for me. You have been exceedingly generous and have done more than anyone else would have should they be in your situation. I want you to know how much I appreciate all you have done and continue to do, and I am only sorry that I continue to bring unfortunate circumstances upon you."

Darcy was already shaking his head before she had finished. "If you _will _thank me, let it be for yourself alone. Though the wish of helping you and restoring your health and happiness might add force to the other inducements that led me on, it was the opportunity to prove myself changed and in fact the very gentleman you had accused me _not _to be. Although I believe I thought only of _you._"

Lizzie felt horrible for her past actions against Mr. Darcy, and felt her eyes tearing up. She blinked them away and tucked a piece of hair behind one ear. "Allow me to apologize for my actions and words in Kent. They were wrong and grotesquely rude. I shall forever regret that day."

"What did you say of me, that I did not deserve?" He asked, and it was true merit to his efforts that he could admit such a thing, even if she was not in agreement. "For, though your accusations were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises, me behavior to you at the time had merited the severest reproof. It was unpardonable. I cannot think of it without abhorrence."

Lizzie smiled at him wearily. Neither of them would admit the other was to blame, and so she decided they had reached an impasse. "We will not quarrel for the greater share of blame annexed to that evening," she said, and he smiled back at her, and he stood and walked over to look out the window, his hands clasped behind his back, his posture flawless. Lizzie stood as well, though it was to place Jane's letter on the writing desk in the corner of the room. When she turned around, Mr. Darcy was facing her once more.

"You are too generous to trifle with me," he started, looking more open and innocent and young then she had ever seen him. He looked as if the wind could knock him over, and somehow she knew what was to come next. "If your feelings are still what they were at Easter, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me forever." He paused, and Lizzie found herself unable to speak at all. All she could do was stare at him, lost for words. "If, however, your feelings have changed," he said slowly, taking a few steps toward her away from the window. "I will have to tell you… you have bewitched me, body and soul and I love- I love—" he took a deep steadying breath. "I love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on."

She was looking at him, knowing that now, after all he had done for her, after all the feelings she had felt and admitted to, she knew she could not deny him.

However, fate usually has a way of interrupting in cruel ways, and as of late it seems to want only Lizzie as its prey. She took a deep breath, opened her mouth to say something, though she was not sure what, but at that precise moment, there was a knock at the door.

**A/N: wow. For the record, I had no intention on springing that last part on you guys for another couple chapters or so, but I guess it just felt right, you know? Anyways, yes, I did copy a lot of lines from the actual book, so that obviously belongs to Jane Austen. The last part of Darcy's speech though is from the 2005 movie. As much as I love the book, I like the last part they add on for the movie, so I put it in there. But anyways, someone's picking on poor Lizzie. If I were her I'd be preeety frustrated right now. Anyways, please review. I've got the story restarted in my mind right now, so count on at least 3 more chapters this week! =D**


	12. Stables

**I literally finished chapter 11 about an hour and a half ago when I got the idea for the next chapter, and I'm so scared I'll forget it that I'm writing it now, sacrificing much of my beauty sleep time. Be happy =]**

**And upon my thoughts for this chapter I realized I'm very doom and gloom when it comes to writing. However, no main characters were harmed in the making of this chapter, nor were they ever remotely in danger for once. Just a few horses.**

**I never did thank everyone for the wonderful reviews. I literally posted the first ten chapters at the same time, and I was shocked to get back on fan fiction today and see that my story had 91 reviews! (92 now, since there's a review for chapter 11) Keep the reviews up, seeing that number is what had me motivated to write more =D**

**~Kayleigh**

_Stables_

Darcy and Elizabeth just stared at each other. He was silently hoping for her to just nod her head at him or something, to give in any indication that his words were received happily this time. Maybe he would even want to know if she still did not return the feelings just so he did not have to go that immensurable amount of time not knowing. When would they get another chance like this?

But Lizzie's thoughts were so chaotic that she couldn't really comprehend anything other then a very important moment had been interrupted by someone on the otherside of that door. Her mouth was slightly open and she tried to say something, but say what? What could she possibly say in such a short amount of time before they were obligated to answer the door?

He watched her expression turn to one of a pleading apology as whoever it was knocked again, and she took a step towards the door, towards him. They were in an odd suspended sort of dance. When she took a step towards the door, he shifted his weight towards her and she stopped, unable to look away from him. Then he took a few steps. She wanted to tell him that everything was so different now, but she knew not how to.

"Darcy?" Colonel Fitzwilliam called through the door, and both their heads snapped in that direction. Darcy sighed, and Lizzie became suddenly annoyed. They wouldn't get another chance like this in a while, and so, in a move as bold as Darcy's the night before, she closed the remaining space between them and practically jumped onto her toes so that she could reach Darcy's lips. Darcy seemed to be one step ahead of her and bent his head to meet her half way. It was a short, desperate kiss that had all the answers Darcy had been looking for in it.

They were forced to keep it short however, when a second voice joined Richards in the hall. It was Georgiana inquiring as to why Richard was standing outside Elizabeth's door. Darcy moaned in exasperation, which inspired feelings in Lizzie she never dreamed of. He pulled away with a dazzling smile, and then tilted his head in the direction of her chambers while he made his way to the door that was gathering admirers on the other side.

Lizzie got the hint and quickly crossed the room to her chambers. Once the door was closed, in an act of true giddiness she had always frowned upon in her sisters, she ran across the room and jumped on the bed, emitting a small squeal of pure excitement. Her reaction completely caught her off guard and upon landing on her bed; she rolled over and stared at the ceiling for quite some time, wondering what on earth she had just done.

Darcy opened the door, having failed in completely wiping the silly smile off his face. "Sorry Richard. I was, uh, assisting Miss. Elizabeth to her chambers." Darcy said, biting his bottom lip and _still _failing in hiding his smile.

Richard took one look at him and laughed. "Did Miss. Bennet tell you an amusing joke cousin?" His side glance at Georgiana was not lost on Darcy, who peaked an eyebrow at the two. He had long since suspected them of conspiring against Darcy and Elizabeth.

"And the reason you are here Richard…?" Darcy asked.

"Do not look so annoyed Darcy," Richard joked, "You were on your way out were you not?" Darcy merely shrugged and looked at Georgiana. "How are you this afternoon?"

"I am well brother, merely tired," Georgiana said, excusing herself for a nap with a smile.

Richard started walking away, Darcy following his lead with a wistful glance behind him. How was he ever going to think properly for the rest of the day?

His cousin laughed once more. "How is Miss. Bennet?"

"Well enough, all things considering," Darcy said, smiling once more. "She is a bit excessively thirsty and complains of mild nausea, but neither is too incapacitation. What information did you get out of Bernard?" he inquired, suddenly remembering the morning's events that happened not so long ago.

Richard shook his head. "Not much. Only that he was employed in town by a woman who claimed to work for her husband. I know," he said, nodding at Darcy's surprised expression. "Who ever this is, he has his wife involved. But Bernard never knew the women's name. He was paid one hundred fifty pounds to make the trip to Derbyshire and locate Sophie Charnock."

Darcy was much too elated at the moment to be seriously angry at the situation Elizabeth had somehow become lost in. He was however feeling concerned for her safety. But he would make Pemberly the safest place in the world, hiring foot soldiers if he must. Until he discovered who was so determined to take her out of the picture, he would keep her here… long enough for her to get acquainted with her future home, he thought with a smile. Though, he realized suddenly, he had yet to ask her formally, and her only reply to his readmission of his feelings had been a quick kiss.

-%-{(()

Lizzie became ill before dinner that night, in what he hoped was just lingering effects of the hallucinogen leaving her system for good. She no longer felt nauseous, but was inclined to send her heartfelt regrets in being unable to join the rest of the house hold for dinner. She hadn't seen Mr. Darcy since the incident just after lunch, and she was eager to see him again.

However she was well aware he had not asked her formally to be his wife, and she had not answered with a positive yes, though if he didn't realize that was her answer at this point she was at quite a loss as for what to do next! A new maid, Sarah, brought her up some toast and tea, and she ate in silence gazing out the window just like she had that fist night Mr. Darcy had come to eat with her. She had been extremely shocked in the way he joked around with her, like a breath of fresh air. That was when she realized there was more to him then the public saw. He was comfortable in his home, and therefore more likely to be himself.

Her pride was still recovering from its own wounds, but she realized that she might experience that a lot in the coming years. Suddenly she looked around the room she was in with renewed awe. She didn't care much for material things, but she did appreciate what it meant. Was she to call rooms like this her own, to wear fine gowns like the ones she borrowed from Georgiana every day? To call herself Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberly in Derbyshire? It hardly seemed possible.

She hardly felt herself at the moment. Was she the same person she was when she departed Longborne for Kent? Certainly not.

She finished her toast, at the same moment realizing how fatigued she felt. Having been hoping for a visit from Mr. Darcy that night, she went to bed feeling slightly disappointed, but knowing she could not stay awake much longer. A headache was starting to develop in her temples and her eyes were sore from exhaustion. Lizzie was asleep almost before she even hit the pillows.

Darcy had had every intention of calling on Elizabeth if only under the pretense to see if she was feeling any better, but he knew he was fooling no one in the house, not even the staff. When he passed Sarah, and older and more experienced maid he had placed in charge of Elizabeth's affairs, in the hall, she informed him that Elizabeth had retired early. Mildly disappointed, he retired to his chambers as well.

Lizzie woke in the middle of the night rather suddenly from a pleasant dream, feeling well rested and deciding that she should perhaps write back to Jane, and probably to her parents as well. She stood and stretched, noting the flickering orange lights dance across the wall. She was already pulling out the supplies for writing letters before she became aware that her fire was almost non existent.

She ran over to the window and her eyes widened. A portion of the stables had caught fire, no doubt a result of a stack of hay spontaneously combusting from improper storage. She knew that the manor was not in any immediate danger, and it seemed like they had every available man working on putting out the fire, except for Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam.

Lizzie made her way to the door but stopped. Was this not the kind of thing the master of Pemberly dealt with? If this had happened at home, her father would have wanted to be notified immediately, and she knew that Darcy cared a great deal about horses. He had told her that breeding and raising horses was his favorite past time, so he would obviously care. His horse, Agaue, lived in those stables….

That decided it for her, knowing he would be crushed if something had happened to his horse and he had done nothing to help. She opened her door and made her way into the hall, knowing exactly what door was his, she opened it to reveal the dark sitting room that joined the master and mistress's rooms. She recalled his room being on the right, and sure enough, as her eye adjusted to the light, she saw the oak door. Taking a deep breath, Lizzie walked over and knocked.

"Mr. Darcy?" she called, knocking once more when there was no reply. "Mr. Darcy, there's an emergency." Still no reply. Perhaps he had been notified and had just not made it down to the fire when she observed the scene?

Wanting to make sure, she cracked open his door and peered in. She could only make out outlines of the furnishings in his room from the dull glow of embers in his fireplace, but she distinctly saw his form beneath the blankets. He rolled over slightly, mumbling something, then stilling again.

She couldn't help but roll her eyes at her luck. Darcy was a deep sleeper, just like Jane. She would have to enter his chambers, something she did not take lightly. She thought of the horses and his guilt once more, and opened the door all the way, calling his name once more.

"Elizabeth?" He mumbled sleepily.

"Mr. Darcy," she said, relieved he had waken up and she need not cross the threshold. "Mr. Darcy, the stables are on fire."

He moved again, bringing one arm up above his head, murmuring "Lizzie," and she could see that his eyes were not even open. She felt herself blush a bit, realizing that he was dreaming of her. She was tempted to throw something at him like she did with Jane, but felt that would be a little hard to explain, so she tip toed across the room, wondering why she was making an effort to be quiet when she was trying to wake him up.

Lizzie paused for a moment, observing his face while he slept. He looked so innocent and relaxed while he was dreaming; a hint of a smile upon his lips that for a moment she didn't want to wake him up.

She smiled, but didn't come too close to startle him once she managed to wake him. "William!" she called, using his first name for the first time, and finally he opened his eyes.

He stared at her sleepily for a moment, his small smile getting a little bigger. She jumped a little when he reached one arm across his body to take her hand in his and pull her a little closer. "Mr. Darcy I—" she started when she realized he must still be mostly asleep, but his hand had vacated hers and was traveling up her arm tantalizingly. She shuttered a bit, her eyes rolling a little too when his thumb brushed across the inside of her elbow. She took an unconscious step toward him, and he entwined his free hand with hers, pulling her closer still. His hand was almost to the strap of her night gown when she realized what was happening.

Lizzie took a startled step back, and his hand was no longer in reach of her, so it fell rather quickly, jolting Mr. Darcy fully awake.

She was sure her eyes were really wide, here heart was thrumming in her chest and she tried to ignore the impulse to lean in and kiss him. Instead, she swallowed the lump in her throat and said rather quickly, "Mr. Darcy, the stables have caught fire."

He started at her incredulously for a few seconds, and then he jumped into action, pulling back the covers and making her blush mildly in seeing him in his night clothes. But it was only a brief glimpse, for he disappeared in a door on the far side of the room, and reappeared moments later wearing slightly more proper clothes, though they were obviously not for leaving his own property. He was about to exit the room when he stopped in his tracks, as if he forgot something. Darcy turned to look at Lizzie, then crossed the room in two long strides, took the same hand he had been holding in his half conscious state, pulled her a little closer to him and kissed her.

After a moment or two, when they were both feeling a little short of breath, he pulled away, placing a hand on the side of her face and looking her in the eye. "Thank you," he said sincerely, and then he was gone.

She remained where she was standing for many moments, trying to figure out what just happened.

**A/N: I don't know if any of you noticed and/or care, but I moved the rating up to T, because I'm a little worried (and slightly anticipating) The turn Elizabeth and Darcy's physical relationship is headed. It obviously wont be anything serious for a while, but I've been not to get *ahem* descriptive ish, and if this is something that your not comfortable with, let me know. I'd be glad to make cleaner chapters for everyone else. But for now the ratings moving to T, and theres a possibility it might move to M in the future, but I'll try not to. =]**


	13. Roses

**Ohhh, reviews! What a lovely sight to wake up to! I spent so much time writing yesterday I was dreaming of it, and woke up with fresh ideas. My heart felt thanks extend to all who have reviewed. Lenewest said something in the reviews about writing after they were married. I had intended this story to go up to the point of their marriage, but I like this story so much, I will either continue this story past that point, or create a sequel. (I already have baby names picked out! Haha) **

Darcy had been more than a little confused upon waking up before the sun had made its appearance. It was not quite so early as it had been the day before with Elizabeth's poison incident, but he had been in the middle of yet another, rather sensual, dream concerning Elizabeth.

He dreamt that she had come to him that time, speaking words of love and devotion as he gently took both of her hands and pulled her into bed with him, bestowing kisses and caresses before she had even fully settled herself next to him. This dream was different in that every thing was dramatically slow, and incredibly vivid. He could hear their ragged breathing and low moans elicited from pure pleasure, and the blissful dream ended with Lizzie asleep in his arms.

Then, suddenly she was standing over him, saying his name. _William. _He looked at her sleepily, wondering why she had left the bed. His eyes felt heavy from sleep, but his eyes roamed over her figure perfectly displayed in her nightgown, something that had never occurred in one of his dreams as he had never consciously seen her so. Darcy wanted to feel her pressed against his chest once more as he drifted back to sleep, and so he reached across himself to take her hand in his, but was distracted by how soft her skin felt.

He let his hand drift slowly up his arm, feeling in complete awe. Never before had he dreamt something so real. He gently brushed his thumb across the inside of her elbow, noticing with a small smile that a shiver rippled through Lizzie and she closed her eyes slightly. His other hand grasped hers, pulling her a little closer so that he would have better access to the rest of her arm, and he continued his slow journey up her arm. When his fingers were the smallest amount of space away from the strap of her night gown, she took a quick step backward, making his arm fall fast, and jolting him fully awake.

Her eyes were wide and he realized what had just happened. It hadn't been a dream at all. He felt slightly sick to his stomach that he had just crossed that line between dreams and reality, a line that was never to be crossed except in matrimony. It had been heavenly, and more fulfilling then any dream could ever be, even just the short excursion up her arm. However, she had only just accepted him, and he knew that one mistake could take her away for good.

He was struggling for words when her own came tumbling out of her mouth. "Mr. Darcy, the stables have caught fire."

He stared at her seconds more, until her words made sense in his head, and he suddenly jumped up and was across the room to dress within seconds. He obviously had to help put out the fire, and was a little peeved that no one had been sent to wake him. Elizabeth had obviously thought he would want to help and so had ventured in to wake him. He smiled a little as he pulled on a coat, imagining how she had struggled with herself just to open his door. He, of course, had invaded her chambers many times and did not care in the slightest that she did the same. He was, however, appalled at his behavior and would of course apologize. But as he was making his way out he stopped, struggling with himself.

Then he turned and crossed the room to her, and figuring that he could not make matters worse then he already had, he pulled her a little closer to him and kissed her.

It was exhilarating. Only being the third time they had ever kissed, he realized that each one was better then the last. Only when he mentally reminded himself of the fire he was supposed to be tending to, did he pull away. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright, and he placed a hand tenderly on the side of her face, sincerely thanking her.

As he walked away, he was unsure which event he was thanking her for.

())}-%-

Lizzie watched him from her window with a small smile upon her face that she was unaware of. The fire was nearly gone by the time Mr. Darcy had arrived at the scene to help, and at this point in time it was completely extinguished. She was happy to note that all the horses had safely been removed from the stables, Mr. Darcy's horse aguae receiving special attention from his master at the current time. She turned her head at the sound of someone entering her room, and quietly bid Sarah good morning.

"Good Morning Miss," she said, putting more wood on the fire and lighting some more candles so that the room was brightly lit. Elizabeth thanked the maid and asked for a pitcher of water.

Usually she would retrieve such things herself, as she was accustomed to. But she had quickly learned that such things were expected of the help, and if she did so herself, it somehow insulted the servants. She was always polite however, and thanked Sarah when she returned with the water and a drinking glass.

"Thank you Sarah," Elizabeth said with a small smile, accepting the water and turning to look back out the window at all the busy work going on. The horses were being led to water by the various groomsmen employed at Pemberly just as the sun started to peek above the horizon, turning the sky shades of purple, pink and blue.

As she watched Mr. Darcy work, she thought on all that had transpired between them the past two weeks of her stay. Everything had happened so fast between them, and she felt a bit disoriented, as if she had taken one too many steps up the stairs in the dark. What had shocked her at first was how significantly happy she seemed to be, and how terribly she had misjudged Mr. Darcy's character.

Lizzie watched the man in question for a few seconds longer, and then crossed the room to her writing desk to write to Jane. She wished her older sister were here so that she had someone to confide in, and as she sat down to write, she thought idly how someday she may have a confident in Georgiana as well.

_Dearest Jane,_

_When I wrote you last I was of such a dramatically different opinion that I can scarcely remember what it is to feel that way. There are many things I wish to put into this letter, but cannot for fear of it becoming lost on its way back to you._

_First, I must assure you that I am feeling much better than I was upon my last letter to you, yet I also must inform you of the rather astonishing turn of events here at Pemberly. It seems, dear Jane, that someone has a vendetta against me! Oh how shocked I was to learn that someone is in want of my life, but I cannot account for whom it may be or why. Perhaps you may be able to think of it Jane, although you look at all the world in such a positive light you will probably never accuse anyone of such things._

_Mr. Darcy has made it clear I am welcome to stay in the safety of his home until he has discovered who is out to take my life, though before you start feeling sorry for me Jane, it is not such an unpleasant idea. I am aware I have shocked you with these words, sister, but Pemberly is everything our aunt has told you and more, and Miss. Darcy is a wonderful girl I take pleasure in sharing my time with. Colonel Fitzwilliam is as humorous as always, and I believe is having too much enjoyment in teasing his cousin. _

_But prepare yourself Jane for my account of Mr. Darcy, for it astonishes myself as well. He is the kindest man of my acquaintance, Jane, for he makes sure I have every comfort in the world and more. My previous opinions of him, even just a few days ago, continue to be proven wrong, and I find myself in the very same danger I accused of you prior to the Netherfield Ball. We were all wrong about Mr. Darcy, and it is my cautious joy to inform you that you may very soon find the opportunity to form your own new opinions of him. _

_I hope this letter finds you in good health and spirits as happy as my own,_

_Your sister, Elizabeth_

-%-{(()

"Any word from Bernard?" He asked his wife absentmindedly from his writing desk where he was currently composing a business letter of more normal circumstances.

The woman shook her head, closing the door so that her daughter would not happen upon the conversation. "He has been taken into custody by the authorites. I know not if the servent girl succeeded."

The man sighed and looked at his wife. "Are you sure we should be doing this? We are so closely involved that—"

"Of course we should." The woman snapped. "Do not forget the unfortunate circumstances _you _brought on this household that drove us to acts such as this." And she exited the room in a rush of skirts and fury.

The man sighed and rubbed his temples.

())}-%-

When the situation at the stables was under control, and Darcy had given the necessary orders to have the burnt part of the stables under control, and as he turned to head back into his room to bathe before he joined the rest of the household for breakfast, his thoughts turned to Elizabeth once more.

He knew he needed to formally propose as soon as possible, and he was not so arrogant as to expect a yes as he had been the first time, but he was hopeful. He practically ran up the stairs, slowing down as he walked by her door, wondering if she had gone back to sleep. He kept going until he reached his dressing room, where he washed up and didn't bother to call for assistance dressing. He did not dress as formally as he should, not even bothering with a cravat.

Exiting his room with a smile on his face, his plan was already formulated. He knocked on her door, hoping that she did not feel any resentment towards him for that morning. With that thought, his confident smile slipped a little just as she opened her door for him, fully dressed, but with chestnut waves cascading freely down her back.

She smiled at him, blushing mildly but greeting him with mirth in her eyes. He was glad to see that recent events have not affected her in such a way to take away her natural playfulness and cunning humor.

"Good Morning," he said, unable to look away from her brown eyes. He wondered, not for the first time, how he had not found her attractive in Hertfordshire. "I was wondering if you would care to take a stroll in the gardens with me before breakfast?"

Elizabeth smiled indulgently, "What a splendid idea Mr. Darcy,"

They walked arm in arm to the gardens silently, where the sun was still completing its journey beyond the horizon, and he silently struggled with how to begin his proposal after such an amazing opportunity was lost on them yesterday.

"I'm so sorry, how are you feeling Miss. Elizabeth? We were all concerned to hear you were ill prior to dinner last night," he began, looking at her with concern, and wondering if the walk through the gardens had not been a good idea after all.

Lizzie assured him that she was feeling much better, and no longer felt sick as she had the day before. "Was there much damage to the stables Mr. Darcy?" she inquired, breaking away from him to smell some of the blooming rose bushes. He noticed and followed her over, reaching past her to snap the fullest rose and hand it to her. She gave him a smile so brilliant he had to catch his breath and attempt to remember the question he had asked of him.

"Fortunately the fire was not given the opportunity to become large, so only a few stalls suffered damage. Reconstruction should be starting soon, so they should be as they were in but a few days." He told her, as they resumed their walk along the pathways. They were silent for a few minutes while he worked up the courage to say what he needed to say.

"Miss. Elizabeth, I would like to express my apologies for my actions this morning, but you caught me in a vulnerable state," he explained with a worried glance at her. She was not looking at him, but at the ground with a small smile playing about her lips as she rolled the rose stem through her fingers. "If you will allow me to renew my sentiments from yesterday, I must tell you that you are in my every thought and haunt my dreams. Your presence in my life has made me a better person. I've seen my faults and have strived to right them if only to gain your favor.

"I remember telling you once that my mother and father were so in love they frequently disregarded the rules of society. I told myself many years ago that I would only marry for a love such as theirs. These past few years I believe I became bitter with the despairing knowledge I had not even come close to such a love. However, I ask you now to accept my hand, knowing I have finally found what it is I had been searching ball rooms and sitting rooms far and wide in vain for." He turned to face her, and she was looking at him now. As he took her hands, her smile got bigger, her eyes sparkling with emotion.

"Elizabeth, will you do me the incredible honor of becoming my wife?" He asked, and she was nodding her head and laughing a little, and if it was at him he did not mind one bit. "Yes!" she cried, seeming a little surprised at the power of her own emotions. "Yes, yes!" she repeated, and Mr. Darcy felt a surge of joy he had never experienced in his life time. Hoping that they were not in view of any of the windows, he kissed her for the fourth time, short and sweet.

They walked back to the house for breakfast, each overcome with the events that transpired between them, feeling as if they could float away from the buoyancy their happiness created. A thought occurred to Mr. Darcy, and he chuckled a bit. Elizabeth looked at him questioningly and he explained. "It seems we have a trip to make to Hertfordshire," he explain. "I would not want to do your father the dishonor of not seeking his permission,"

Lizzie laughed as well, tightening her grip on his arm and moving a little closer then was appropriate to him. "I am sure you have nothing to worry of _there _Mr. Darcy," she said, and he knew she was thinking of Mr. Bennet's thoughts on such a match.

As they entered the house, Darcy looked over at her. "Call me William, Elizabeth." He told her quietly.

"William," she whispered, as if testing the word out. Mr. Darcy was surprised to find the delight just that one word uttered from her lips made him impossibly happier.

As Darcy and Elizabeth entered the breakfast room, they saw that Georgiana and Richard were already seated and eating. Richard looked up with a smile on his face. "Good morning Cousin, Miss. Elizabeth," he added with a nod in her direction. "Interesting morning?" he asked, obviously meaning the incident at the stables.

Mr. Darcy's smile turned rather smug, and he looked his cousin in the eye. "Very much so Richard. I believe you are to wish me happy,"

Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam looked between Elizabeth and Darcy for a few suspended seconds, then had to cover his mouth full of food, for he seemed to be unable to control his sudden urge to laugh.

**The End! Haha, just kidding. Much more to come, I assure you. I do admit I felt rather weird writing his nearly **_**thrid **_**proposal. It was no where near as eloquent as Jane Austen's final proposal, and I wonder if I should have saved copying those words for now, rather then in the previous chapter. Oh well, it is what it is. **

**I would write yet another chapter for today, but I have sudden plans tonight that prevent this. I will try to get another chapter written and posted tomorrow though, so keep an eye out! **


	14. UPDATE

**Hey everybody, my apologies but this isn't a new chapter. I just felt bad that when I updated yesterday I said I would try to have a chapter up by today, but here is my list of excuses. I was over at my friends house a little longer then expected today, and only got home before dinner, at which point I had to eat and run out to Cross Country practice, and I just got home. But I have to wake up early tomorrow for college orientation, so I wont be able to write a new chapter tonight. **

**I am sincerely sorry, but I believe I will find the time to write tomorrow night, and will try to get **_**two **_**chapters up, the first of those replacing this update. So check back in tomorrow night or the day after.**

**Again, I'm sorry, but with all the people who have been reviewing my story, and after my extended absence, I felt obliged to let you know I have not forgotten, and have the next chapter ready in my mind =]**

**Until then, I hope everyone is having a wonderful summer!**

**~Kayleigh**


	15. George Darcy

**So I am obviously so in love with the world of Pride and Prejudice that I have looked up published books about Darcy and Elizabeth. My favorites being 'Mr. Darcy's Diary' by Amanda Grange; a complete retelling of Pride and Prejudice from Darcy's perspective, up until their first Christmas as a married couple, and the Pemberly Series by Sharon Lathan (Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy, Loving Mr. Darcy, and My Dearest Mr. Darcy). I loved the depth Sharon Lathan had put into the books, and the characters she developed and invented. I'm using one of her characters in this chapter, as this particular character is one of my favorites. Oh, and I suggest you read those books =] **

_George Darcy_

The sun was still high in the sky, but the damp alleyway was dark, the light blocked from the high walls of the buildings on either side. It was not the best neighbor hood in London, it was impoverished and gave off a rather foul odor. But the people were desperate for any type of extra money, whether to provide food or clothing or things of a more selfish nature.

The Woman knew she failed at blending in with her surroundings. She was by no means as rich as families like the Fitzwilliam's or Darcy's, but when she was here she appreciated what she had, even though money was tight at the present time. That is the reason that, though she understood that she was lucky enough to have everything she needed; a nice house and a title to go with it, she was greedy enough to feel it was not enough. It was most certainly not enough for her youngest child.

But the business was of a more personal nature this time, not for the richer people who hire them, so she felt little guilt as she made the final turn into an even darker alley way where five men were waiting for her. With the last of the money she and her husband had saved up for this job, she silently handed them one hundred pounds a piece, gave them their instructions, and turned to leave.

"Where will we know to find them?" one man called after her.

She turned to face him, raising an eyebrow at him. "You will find a way to complete what you have been told to do, or you will never see the rest of the money."

-%-{(()

"When do you wish to depart for Hertfordshire? Assuming you are feeling well again and up to the journey of course," Mr. Darcy asked Elizabeth the afternoon of their engagement. They were strolling around the pond frequented for fishing in the summer, Lizzie holding onto his arm with the smile that seemed to have never left since that morning. She looked over at him playfully. "How soon do you wish to be married Mr. Darcy?" she answered his question with one of her own, using her free hand to pick up her skirts as they ventured over a particularly muddy spot. Normally the mud did not phase her, but she felt guilty soiling Georgiana's beautiful ensembles, and privately could not wait to have her own clothes once again.

Mr. Darcy chuckled, "Must you ask? I would marry you today if I did not fear the conspiracies and rumors that would plague us for years at the least,"

"Have you any reason not to depart tomorrow then Mr. Darcy?" She asked, smiling at him sweetly in a way that obviously showed she was trying to be persuasive.

He pretended to contemplate the idea, rubbing his chin with his hand and furrowing his brow. "Hmm…" He said quietly. "I can think of many reasons Miss. Bennet. I rather enjoy our stolen moments amidst the finery of Pemberly,"

Elizabeth was silent for a moment, and then she laughed. "You jest, Mr. Darcy! I could not believe it of a man such as you, but yet you seem to be implying that actions of a scandalous nature have transpired between us!"

"Have they not, Miss Elizabeth?" He asked, stopping when they got to the point where they met up with the main path once more. He took her hand in his, bending to kiss it, and lingering for a few seconds, running his thumb slowly over each knuckle. "Were said moments not worth the risk?"

Elizabeth sighed happily. "If you are asking whether I regret such scandalous behavior, I will have to reply that I honestly do not. But what of my reputation, good sir?"

"You are marrying Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, your reputation precedes you." He said in a matter-of-fact voice, and for a moment Lizzie feared his vanity and pride had not all together righted itself, but then she recognized it for the fact it was, and was hit anew with how dramatically changed her life will be.

All joking aside, she looked up at her betrothed, and said, "_Can_ we depart tomorrow William? I wish to inform my father as soon as possible,"

He laughed at her eagerness. To be honest, Mr. Darcy would have arranged for them to leave within the hour if she so wished it. He was so completely, blissfully happy; happier then he had been since he could remember.

"Oh course Elizabeth. I shall have a letter sent to Longborne express so that they are prepared for our arrival tomorrow evening or the next morning."

"Where will you stay?" Elizabeth asked with a frown. Had he not been her betrothed, it was acceptable by propriety for him to stay in the Bennet household. While they did not have an acceptable guest room for a man such as Mr. Darcy, it would not have been allowed anyway.

He thought about his answer for a moment, then he became excited that his plan led to something more that could make Elizabeth happy. For, how could he marry a Bennet and declaim it wrong for his closest friend to do so as well? "I will write to Charles," he said, the plan getting clearer as he went, "and request to stay at Netherfield, and then suggest that if he has no pressing business in town to attend to, that he join us. We shall invite you and Jane to dine with us…." He trailed off, seeing that Lizzie was catching on.

She got up on her toes and placed a kiss on his cheek happily. "Thank you William!"

Later that night they were in the parlor, both Darcy and Elizabeth attending to their letters, while Richard sat by the fire, unsuccessfully reading a book as he kept glancing between the two. Georgiana was practicing a piece of music at her pianoforte, her brow furrowing and the music stopping often as she attempted to work out the particularly difficult piece.

Lizzie had picked up her letter to Jane written that morning after the fire at the stables (she could not believe that had only happened that morning!) and added on a post-script.

_Jane,_

_I cannot help but inform you by this letter, my dear sister, but you are duty bound as my sister to wish me happy! Not one hour after completing the above passages, did Mr. Darcy ask me to be his wife. I am happier then I ever could have imagined myself to be! _

_We depart for Hertfordshire early tomorrow morning, so as to request Papa's permission, but honestly Jane, if he for some unforeseen reason does not give his consent, I may very well as him to elope with me! But do not tell anyone yet Jane, as I wish to inform everyone myself. _

_I hate to ask you end your time with our aunt and uncle in town, but I do so wish you to be with me at Longborne, especially when I inform Mama of her soon to be son-in-law. I shudder to think her reaction. I also request that you return, because I have it on good word that a certain gentlemen may be returning to Hertfordshire. _

_I do so hope to see you soon Jane!_

_Lizzie_

Mr. Darcy finished his letter to Bingley, telling him of his news and request to use his home, and also his hopes that Bingley would join him; just a few minutes after Elizabeth had finished hers to Jane. She sat beside the fire, watching Georgiana play with a smile on her face. Georgiana had been ecstatic in learning that Elizabeth was to be her sister soon, and did not hold back in expressing this in her own, shy and calm way. Darcy became enticed with the vision of the fire reflecting off of Elizabeth's hair and in her eyes, when Richard snapped his book shut.

"Why do you not paint a portrait Darcy? It lasts longer." He joked, taking a sip of his brandy. Lizzie turned to see Darcy staring at her and she blushed mildly, but not minding the attention one bit. She was honestly surprised that no one had discovered her impudent observations. It had not escaped her notice that he had a very appealing figure beneath all those expensive clothes, more so now that he was dressed casually in the comfort of his own home.

Darcy actually laughed however, less annoyed with his cousins pointed jokes then he had been before the engagement. "It is an interesting idea Richard, and one I intend on carrying out in the course of the future." Both Darcy and Elizabeth had the vision of Elizabeth's portrait hanging on the wall besides his mothers. To her it was a bit intimidating. Darcy, however, was rather reverently anticipating that day.

"Miss. Elizabeth," Georgiana said quietly from the piano, "Could you assist me with turning pages?"

Lizzie rose with a smile. "Of course. But you need not call me 'Miss. Elizabeth.' Just Elizabeth will do, or Lizzie, as that is what all my sisters call me," she told her, taking a seat beside Georgiana at the piano. Georgiana grinned serenely, her eyes searching out her brothers. She was happy that he had found happiness after all this time. As much as Georgiana loved her brother, she had come to the conclusion that as long as she was the only woman in his life, she would forever be treated like the young girl she was not any more. She secretly yearned to be out in society and attend balls with the other young ladies of Derbyshire and London.

"It will be so nice to have a sister. Having only a brother can be so tiresome," Georgiana said timidly, the joke coming across as uncertain. She looked to her brother to be sure she had not insulted him, but he chuckled. Darcy was happy for Elizabeth's recent place in his sister's life. He believed it was just what she needed in her life, a little bit of Elizabeth's tenacity and wit, to help her overcome the natural shyness that seemed to be a family trait.

Lizzie laughed, turning the page as Georgiana started to play where she had left off. "I grew up wishing I had an older brother. You are very lucky in my opinion."

"You give your opinion so decidedly for one so young," Richard said in a mocking tone, and everyone but Georgiana laughed. The clock on the mantle chimed, indicating that it was eight o'clock. Darcy rose with both his letters and Elizabeth's, and called for the closest servant to ensure they were sent express, then turned to Elizabeth.

"I think it is time we retire. If we are to make it to Longborne by dinner tomorrow, we have to leave quite early,"

They left the room together, not even attempting to hide the fact they wished to privately bid goodnight to each other; already once that day they had managed to make Georgiana blush at a comment that was not exactly considered _proper. _

Darcy and Elizabeth were venturing into the main hallway when the doorman walked in, encountering Mr. Darcy. He bowed. "Sir, your uncle has just arrived unann—"

"William!" A man cried jubilantly, in a voice that so closely resembled Darcy's, Lizzie was confused for a moment, but her confusion over his voice was quickly replaced by shock. The man striding down the hall looked to be an older, more slender version of Darcy himself, but that was not what surprised her so. It was what the man was wearing that made her eyes widen and a smile grace her lips. He was wearing fabric that seemed to be wrapped and tucked everywhere, something she had seen in portrayals of the people of India. He was wearing a bright red with a blue the color of the sky crossing across his chest. Even his shoes were foreign, and Elizabeth was amazed this man was related to Darcy at all, and if it wasn't for the close resemblance, she would never believe it.

"Uncle!" Darcy said, surprised at first, then a big smile spread across his face as he reached to grasp the man's hand and clap him on the shoulder. "Just as outlandish as always I see. Did I not tell you three years ago that when you are in England it is frowned upon to dress as such?" Darcy was obviously joking, and his uncle laughed.

"To be honest William, many people of our country disapprove even while I'm in India, but it helps me to instill confidence in my patients. And who is this?" He asked, looking over Darcy's shoulder at Elizabeth.

Darcy's grin became even bigger as he moved aside to introduce his uncle to her. "Uncle, this is Miss. Elizabeth Bennet, a guest here at Pemberly, and as of this morning, the future mistress of Pemberly." You could tell from his expression that he loved saying that, and the elder Darcy did not hesitate in taking Elizabeth's hand and bestowing upon it a kiss.

"Dr. George Darcy, What a pleasure it is to make your acquaintance Miss. Elizabeth. It seems I choose a convenient time to quit India for a while. Have you set a date William?" He asked, not giving Elizabeth the chance to return his sentiments. She had known the man for all but a few minutes, and already she liked him. He was a walking contradiction to Darcy, and everything she believed impossible for their family name.

The younger Mr. Darcy rubbed the back of his neck. "I have not yet asked her father for his consent. We were going to depart for Hertfordshire in the morning."

"Hertfordshire?" George Darcy asked, unable to hide his shocked expression, then he chuckled a bit. "Just like your father, ever the romantic," he laughed, looking around. "But where is Georgiana? Has she stayed up past her bed time? I thought her too old for such trival things!"

His question was answered on its own as Georgiana and Richard had appeared to discover what all the noise was about. "Uncle George!" Georgiana cried gleefully, hugging her uncle excitedly. "I did not know you were coming!" she said happily as he kissed her on the cheek.

"Neither did your brother. So much time in a different country led me to forget the protocols of visiting one's family I suppose," He took a step back, observing his niece with exaggerated scrutiny. "What happened to the young girl I last saw two years ago? I do not believe I gave you permission to develop bosoms and curves!"

Georgiana blushed a bit, but was too caught up in seeing her namesake to really feel embarrassed at his words. "Have I not grown much Uncle?"

"Too much I dare say," George said looking around. "I'm so sorry, how are you Colonel Fitzwilliam?" he asked, and as he became reacquainted with Richard, who was from Darcy's mothers side, so therefore not known too well by George Darcy, Mr. Darcy had a servant prepare George Darcy's usual room. For though he only visited every couple years or so, he usually stayed for a half year. George Darcy was a Physician working under the East India Trading Company, serving Englishmen and Indians alike in the far away country. He was in his late forties, the youngest of Mr. Darcy's aunt and uncles, and by far his favorite. Though he was eccentric and outlandish, George was also intelligent and professional when the time deemed it appropriate.

After the greetings were over, George apologized for his unannounced arrival once more. "Do not think you should delay your trip to Hertfordshire on my account William, as I am sure you have already thought of ways to break the news to your beautiful fiancé." He laughed at the deceivingly innocent smile Darcy sent his way.

"By all means, Uncle, join us. I would like you to get to know Elizabeth better before you disappear for India once more," Darcy said, glancing at her for perhaps the tenth time that minute. "Actually, given Elizabeth's recent, um, unpleasant occurances, it would be beneficial to have a doctor join our party," Darcy was once more expressing his concern for her well being, something that was rather endearing, but making her roll her eyes none the less. George saw her expression and laughed.

Darcy was too busy observing Georgiana's crestfallen look to enquire as to what was so entertaining to his uncle. "It seems we shall have to bring Georgiana along as well then," he said with a smile. "And you cousin,"

Richard bowed, "My apologies, but I must return to the regiment in a few days."

"And you will be sorely missed," George said, holding back a yawn. "Dear me, my travels seem to have caught up with me. Shall we?" he asked, and the five of them made their way up to the third floor to retire.

After George, Richard, and Georgiana had all retired, a feat that had proved difficult as George seemed to want to catch up on the past two years in a matter of minutes, despite his claim at being tired.

Darcy leaned against the wall beside the door to Elizabeth's chambers. "So what do you think of my Uncle? I can assure you that we can expect more such unexpected visits from him in the future."

Lizzie smiled. "I have trouble believing him to be a Darcy,"

He laughed, nodding his head. "You would never believe he grew up here in Pemberly, raised to be a respectable gentleman. Alas, he rebelled and disappointed my father in becoming a doctor instead of helping with the many businesses the estate controls."

Lizzie shook her head. "It is a wonder that such a necessary job is not considered a respectable job for the well educated," she said.

Darcy expressed his agreement, but was silent after, just watching her for a few moments. Elizabeth could perceive his sudden change in mood, and returned his gaze evenly.

"What say you, Miss. Elizabeth, for another scandalous excursion?" He said rather lowly, one hand rising to brush his fingers along her jaw line. He watched her intently as she closed her eyes for a couple seconds, reveling in the feelings he aroused in her.

She smiled, and when she opened her eyes, Mr. Darcy was closer then before. "But what of my reputation Mr. Darcy?" she breathed.

"Your reputation precedes you, for you are very soon to be Mrs… Elizabeth Darcy," he whispered the last two words, then closed the final few inches and softlycaptured her lips with his own.

**Ah, so quite a different direction I had intended with this chapter, but I like this more. Mmm… Mrs Elizabeth Darcy. I'd very much like to be her. This chapter took me 3 hours to write, since I put in the 1995 Pride and Prejudice and have been severely distracted the whole time. But I finished it. Opinions on George Darcy? He is not my character, but I love him so much in Sharon Lathan's books. **


	16. Stung

**My last chapter was very calm and happy, a nice break from all the death attempts I think. This one will be similar, but do not fear, there is sufficient 'Mr. Darcy struggling with his natural shy demeanor and his complete euphoria' The next chapter I find miiiight hold all the answers you have all been asking me about who is attempting to kill Lizzie and why. I decided on that a long time ago, and I regret that decision, but the storys been working up to it so I cant change it now. Oh well. Maybe I'll post an alternate ending of some sort. **_**Also **_**(sorry, I'm naturally long winded. You should hear me have conversations) I spent the past two days reading instead of writing (sorry =] ) If you haven't yet, check out **_**Sanguine **_**by**_** KitKat925. **_**Amazing Lizzie/Darcy story. Lizzie runs away from Longborne and boards a ship bound for north America, and encounters Darcy on it. There's a storm and the ship goes down. Darcy predictably saves her life and they have to put up with just each other on a deserted island. It was an amazing story. And sorry if the beginning of this chapter confuses you. I assume you are all intelligent people and will catch on soon enough. To make it more clear, however, I will place a date. Anyways~**

_Stung_

(Netherfield Estate, Sunday 17th of November)

Darcy awoke to the bright sun seeping though the cracks of the floor length window to his left in a bed he still did not feel entirely comfortable in. The thick blankets were none the less succeeding in warding off the cool November air from the bare skin of his upper body, which was how he preferred to sleep as of late.

The main reason for the change in his sleeping attire was the constant dreams that had plagued him since the arrival of Miss. Elizabeth Bennet but four nights ago. After two nights of twisting about in bed and waking to find his shirts wound alarmingly tight about his neck, he decided it would be prudent to the preservation of his life to discard the treacherous garment for the time being.

The dreams bothered him, though he could not recall the majority of what they were, only that they contained a particular lady and the fact that her guest chambers were not three doors away from his own.

Mr. Darcy had become concerned for his regard of the lady when he had let slip to Caroline Bingley how the subtle beauty and lively emotion of Miss. Elizabeth's eyes while attending a private party in the home of Sir William Lucas. She was not beautiful exactly, but there was something about her that held his attention so inappropriately that he had to constantly keep himself in check whenever she was in his presence. At this he had most likely succeeded too well in, and now feared he came off as silent and arrogant whenever she was around. But it was the best he could do, or else his interest would be quite evident, and Miss Bennet would most likely expect an offer from him.

He lay in bed for a few moments, and then decided that he was unlikely to fall back asleep, and knowing that was probably for the best, he rang his valet to assist him in dressing. Upon entering the library half an hour later, he stopped in his tracks to espy none other than the woman herself, sitting in a chair with her legs tucked rather impetuously beneath her, remaining ignorant of his presence. Mr. Darcy retreated quickly and quietly, hoping she did not notice and feel insulted by his hasty actions.

He instead occupied himself by practicing his hand at billiards until it was time to breakfast with the rest of the house. Miss Jane Bennet was in much better spirits then the previous day, and the love struck Bingley could no longer insist she remain in his home. Darcy watched them carefully through breakfast as had been a recent activity of his, still attempting to discern weather the young lady received his complements with great happiness, and if she likewise returned his feelings. He complemented himself on not looking at Miss Elizabeth above ten times.

They all seven of them attended service together, in which he did not speak to her at all, and would not have even if the opportunity had arisen. He felt himself already tiring of his efforts, though the day had hardly began, and was thankful that upon the party's return to Netherfield, the Bennet women took their leave.

Caroline expressed her resignation to Jane's departure with barely hidden boredom, though he thought there may be a little sincere affection for her. Bingley on the other hand, was completely honest and as was frequent of him, his words were racing ahead of coherent thought. "I am a selfish man. If it were not for the fact that you had suffered, I would almost have been glad you had a cold. It has allowed me to be with you everyday for almost a week." His feelings were so foolishly transparent, Darcy wondered at his ability to control his ridiculous smile and anxious habit of bouncing on his heels while in her company.

Darcy found himself in agreement with Caroline's previous words however. Jane Bennet was a kind girl with a sweet disposition. If her circumstances and connections were better, he would encourage the engagement rather then feel the need to protect his friend from such an alliance.

Caroline's pleasant expression twisted a little as she gazed upon the second Bennet sister, whose hair was barely contained in a hasty know on the back of her head. Darcy however, was noticing the way Elizabeth's smile seemed to be forming into more of a smirk, as if she knew the direction of Caroline Bingley's thoughts. Caroline's false smile was wide as she said, "And Miss. Eliza Bennet. It has been so… charming to have you here."

Her lips got thinner and her eyes sparkled with mirth beneath heavy lashed eyelids. "Miss Bingley," she said with a slight curtsey, "It has been so nice of you to have me here." She turned away from Darcy to say her goodbyes to Mr. Bingley in a warm and sincere tone, but Mr. Darcy barely heard her words. He stood with his back tall and hands clasped behind his back, watching as a strand of hair fell out of her bun, and he suddenly had the urge to reach over and wrap it back into place. As if on their own accord, his hands dropped to his side and he began to reach out when she turned to him.

"Mr. Darcy." The tone of her voice made him wince internally, but he was thankful that she had said anything at all, or else he might have made a complete, improper fool of himself. He shuddered at the vision of Miss Bingley's never ending taunts, or worse, Miss Elizabeth's reaction.

Still, impulse won over him in the long term, and as she started into the carriage, he reached out quickly, ensnaring her hand and helping her up (1*). As she seated and stared at him in incredulous confusion, he realized what he had done. He bowed to her at once, turned on his heel and set a course for wherever his feet would take him. His hand felt rather odd, and he was not lost to the fact that he had just felt her bare skin. It had been soft and warm, feeling just right as it joined his.

Mr. Darcy exited the back of the manor making his way towards his stables. As he walked he looked down at his hand which he was unknowingly flexing. The simple act of touching her hand had been far to pleasing if he was honest, and his long strides became even longer as his thoughts started to trail off to other parts of bare skin he should like to touch….

"Mr. Darcy!" Elizabeth called for the third time, and she and the rest of her party watched with amusement as he jolted awake. He automatically searched for Elizabeth, and was therefore surprised to see her on the other side of the carriage beside Georgiana, who was looking down at her needle work with a grin on her face, blushing and biting her bottom lip. She looked confused with if she would rather laugh or hide away.

Darcy's uncle was beside him with a closed book on his lap, openly laughing at his nephew. "Pleasant dreams William?" and Elizabeth turned a slightly darker shade. Darcy sat up straighter, looking out the window. He could guess what had happened. He had fallen into a light sleep, no doubt lulled by the movement of the carriage, and as was his custom to light sleeping, he had been talking. Well, let his uncle have his fun, for except for the very last thoughts nothing untoward should have been said aloud.

"Not so much dreams as memories uncle," Darcy replied, taking in their surroundings. He could tell they had traveled some distance since he was last conscious, and noting the angle of the sun, concluded they should be arriving at Longborne within the next couple hours.

The first few hours had been spent merrily conversing about everything from wedding ideas to a thorough description of Hertfordshire (Georgiana had only seen it in passing through to town) and George Darcy's tales from India. They had gradually subsided into separate conversations between Elizabeth and Georgiana, and the male Darcy's, though the frequent looks between Elizabeth and Darcy were not lost on the other two. He knew not when he had been so rude as to drift off to sleep, and chastised himself for staying up so late the night before, but it really could not have been helped.

"Brother…" Georgiana said, breaking the slightly awkward silence that had ascended. He looked over at her, and she blushed distinctly. "I fear I may have had too much water and find myself in need of a quick stop. Is there time enough…?" she shyly tucked a hair behind her ear, and her eyes flicked over to Elizabeth, as if wondering if this was acceptable to her future sister.

Darcy laughed. "Of course Georgie," and he knocked on the roof, opening the door partially so that he could hear the driver.

"Yes sir?" the man called, and Darcy informed him of their need for a stop at the next available place, which just so happened to be not three minutes away.

Darcy assisted first his sister, and then Elizabeth out of the carriage. She wrapped her arm around his and they strolled away down the nearest path as George escorted Georgiana into the inn to request the facilities.

They strolled along a path of wild flowers, just enjoying nature and the others company. Suddenly she looked up at him, smiling slightly. "What memories were you dreaming of sir?"

He laughed, looking up at the sky and taking a deep breath. "How bad were my sleepy mumblings?" he inquired.

Elizabeth shrugged, "Not as you would imagine it I should guess. But your uncle gave the situation more humor then it should be credited, therefore I felt sufficiently chagrined and promptly woke you up." He laughed with her, pausing to bestow a kiss on the back of her hand.

"Are you eager to see your parents once more?"

"Jane more than anything, but you are avoiding my question Mr. Darcy, of what were you dreaming?" it was obvious she absolutely refused to lose this fight, and being the type of man he was he probably would have relented, but he found himself oddly embarrassed.

"Of the first time we touched." He admitted with a sigh, but one corner of his mouth lifted as he turned his head ever so slightly to look at her. "You would be surprised the path my thoughts frequently took, even then when we had only just started to know each other."

Lizzie smiled, knowing exactly which incident he was referring to. Though she had not thought of it the same way he assumingly had, she remembered it because it had baffled her so. She recalled wondering to herself what had propelled the unsociable, arrogant and taciturn man to have the audacity to hand her into the carriage? Then it had led to her thinking of the times she thought she had seen something other then disapproving contempt in his eyes when he gazed at her or they shared a battle of wits. Elizabeth voiced all of this to him and he chuckled.

"You know not of how I struggled during your stay at Netherfield. I had not wanted to show my significant interest in you, should you expect a proposal I, at that time, believed I could not and should not make. I fear instead I appeared to be in a foul disposition the entire time you were there, yet I know of a few incidents I had let my façade slip, and I in turn would distance myself even greater yet. It was a never ending battle." He admitted, hoping he did not make her feel uncomfortable at the reference to the sentiments about her status in life verses his own he had so abhorrently spoken in Kent.

Elizabeth was silent for a time, and he left her to think. He did not want to force upon her too much at once, knowing that her regard to him had changed so fast, it probably disoriented her a bit. Finally, as they stopped to turn back to the carriage, she spoke. "I was such a fool as to be blinded to my own thoughts and feelings then, but now I wonder how I could not have noticed my interest and… and attraction to you." Her last words were rushed and her face colored.

He opened his mouth to reply, but at that instant he started coughing and spluttering. Elizabeth looked at him in alarm. All propriety forgotten, she cried "Mr. Darcy! What is the matter!" as if she expected an answer from the choking man, and she immediately moved to be of some assistance to him, though she knew not what to do, when he coughed one last time and from the corner of her eye she noticed something small fall to the ground. He took deep breaths, and she took his hand hoping she could at least be of some comfort to him.

Then he started to laugh. It was a deep, booming laugh she had never heard before, and it went on for minutes. Usually he merely chuckled, but never expressing himself as such, and it came as such a shock to her that she took a step back. He grappled for her hand once more, taking calming breaths to steady his laughter, and finally he looked up at her with a huge smile on his face.

"Mr. Darcy?" she questioned, unsure if the situation really called for humor at all, but at the same time was having trouble holding back her own smile.

"I fwawowed ah bwee." He said. She looked at him incredulously, as his eyes got wide in fear, his humorous smile disappearing instantly. "Ewizabiff!" (2*) he nearly cried, looking like he was about to panic.

She had much practice understanding the ramblings and mumblings of small children from spending extended time with her younger cousins, so had no problem deciphering his words, and intently looked at the ground. She soon saw the culprit who had apparently wanted nothing more then to sacrifice himself just to sting poor Mr. Darcy's tongue. She looked between him, with his wide eyes, and at the dead honey bee lying on the ground, and then it was her turn to laugh delightedly.

"Iss ish naw fwunne Wizzy!" he cried, but then snapped his mouth shut, making her laugh harder, just as George Darcy called for them to return to the carriage. Lizzie, still laughing in a way that would have made Mr. Darcy smile at the delicious sound had it not been at his expense. He refused to say a word as they made their way into the carriage.

Lizzie's laughter had subsided into frequent giggles, causing George to raise an eyebrow at her. "Please enlighten me to the joke my dear, for I have a suspicious it has something to do with the redness of William's face and his determination not to speak." Darcy shot each of them a glare then turned to stare haughtily out the window, his pride obviously suffering.

"A bee stung him on his tongue Dr. Darcy," Lizzie informed him, and Darcy groaned in embarrassment. His uncle and Georgiana joined in on the laughing, though George was more jubilant about it and he turned to his nephew with a smirk.

"Come now William, let me take a look. You have obviously had a reaction to the sting, I can tell by the set of your jaw that your tongue is swollen," he looked to Elizabeth for confirmation, and as she nodded, he chucked again, but Darcy refused to open his mouth for all of his company to see. "The stinger might still be present," George continued, moving closer to his nephew turned patient, determined to win out. Still Darcy's stubbornness held out and the doctor sighed. "Honestly William, all who are present can look away if the sight of your tongue is less then pleasant, but I daresay neither of the ladies will mind."

Darcy sighed and glared at Georgiana, who smiled and found particular interest in the trees lining the road. When he glanced at Elizabeth, she merely raised an eyebrow and started intently at him, as if to tell him that she cared not what she was to see, and he sighed in a resigned matter, and parted his mouth but an inch.

George Darcy clearly thought this would not do, and took a firm grasp of the younger mans jaw, forcing it open and ordering him to stick his tongue out, causing Elizabeth to laugh some more, but realizing the embarrassment she was making him endure, looked out the window as well.

The elder Darcy made a slight noise of acknowledgement, and reached under his seat for the medical bag William Darcy had insisted on him bringing into the carriage, should Elizabeth feel a relapse in her recent medical ailments, much as it had irked her. He pulled out a pair of tongs and expertly extracted the bee's stinger in a matter of seconds, upon which Darcy prompty shut his mout.

"Ah, that should do it. And I believe the swelling will go down in an hour or two. Dear me, let us hope we do not make it to Longborne before then, we would not want Mr. Bennet thinking you an incompetent fool!" Darcy's eyes widened again, and then narrowed dangerously at his uncle.

-%-{(()

Edward Vernor watched the elegant carriage pull into the Longborne estate, thinking fast. He was by far the most intelligent man in the group, and it had been his duty to formulate some plan on how to acquire Elizabeth Bennet. At first they were going to attack her carriage on its ride into Hertfordshire, so that she never reached the protection of her family home, and they had the manpower to overcome the driver and possible chaperone. Never did he imagine she would be accompanied by a whole platoon of Darcy's, their driver and an extra servant, so he therefore needed to rethink his strategy. He had a deadline to make, and hoped that all he had heard of the young lady was true.

They needed to ambush her on her own property while she took one of her frequent walks. Edward had done his research on her, and hoped the plan could be carried out the fallowing morning. He was promised an extra four hundred pounds, one hundred pounds more then the other men, and so he wanted to make sure he saw that money.

He had an illegitimate daughter to take care of. (3*)

**1*- So I know that he doesn't hand her into the carriage in the book, but it's a beautiful scene in the movie, and that first touch back then was really important. You never got the chance unless dancing or anything else that is accepted by propriety. **

**2*- I was talking to my sister today about P&P at the same time I was eating, and I accidently said 'Ewizabif' so that was where my inspiration for this scene is from. Its incredibly corney, but at the same time its funny to see the proud, eloquent (excluding failed proposals) , educated, society conformist Darcy unable to articulate. =] and I understand the situation as a whole is unlikely, who would allow a bee to fly into their mouth? Why would a bee **_**want **_**to? But I'm sure it's been done before, therefore Mr. Darcy is one of the unlikely candidates. **

**3*- I just have to add that I have this tendency to want to understand the bad guys of a story, and therefore have inserted the part that make you say 'awww' despite of everything they do. I think to the bad guys I invent, the ends justify the means, and for Verner he has to find the money to feed and clothe his daughter who was born out of wedlock, when he could have easily deserted the baby and the mother to save his reputation and find a heiress to marry. Awwww =]**

**But all in all, I think the next chapter will be eventful, with Edward Verner and his Croonie's attempt to kidnap Elizabeth (or successful kidnap? Mwahahahahaa) And I will try to reveal who is behind it all, although I just go with the writing flow, so I make no promises. =] Until then, reviews make me the happiest of writers**


	17. Homecoming

**So I won't ramble too much up here, since I know probably not many of you actually read this. But I feel weird if I don't have my say before I begin to write, and I also think that with the format of fanfiction, it looks weird if I don't. So I am merely here being slightly OCD, but also expressing my thanks for all the amazing reviews I have received. I've only had maybe two or three less then helpful or friendly reviews that made me frown a bit, since they didn't even offer what I could fix, or anything helpful at all really. So thank you all for your encouragement, and I will do my best to continue updating in a timely matter, and hopefully have it finished before school starts. =]**

_Homecoming_

Lizzie took a deep breath as they started to approach the lane that leads up to her family home. She knew that, if word had got out, her voyage to the north would have caused a scandal and her parents would have to put of every appearance of being ashamed of her. She knew her father would be slightly disappointed, something that she had always feared of him feeling towards her, his favorite of five.

She looked apprehensively out the window, catching sight of the outdated farmhouse that was hers. Discretely, she felt her betrothed clasp her hand reassuringly, then let go. She looked up at him to smile appreciatively, and was struck with the sudden thought that they were fast approaching a place he was not comfortable with. In fact, she was convinced he was not comfortable anywhere but Pemberly, and with a verbal sigh, she resigned herself to be in the company of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberly for the majority of the time, and not William Darcy, the man she had somehow grown to love and was to marry.

He heard her sigh and their eyes met briefly, Darcy baring a mildly confused expression, until his uncle spoke up from the other side of the cabin. "I suspect the swelling has gone down enough for you to articulate your words William," he said with his ever present smile upon his face. Darcy's jaw clenched in resignation to never speak again, and this time it was her turn to give his hand a reassuring squeeze. He shook his head in the smallest degree, though he did entwine her fingers in his more securely and held it in place this time.

Elizabeth grinned at him, knowing all too well the feats stubbornness can accomplish from her own obstinate behavior. "William, you must speak to ask my father for my hand. You cannot play a silly game of charades with my father, who will be convinced of your insanity and insist you visit the asylum for a year or so." His eyes widened and she laughed delightedly. "See now? It is in your best interest to speak, although you may be happier with the excuse not to converse with my mother…"

Darcy barely repressed a sudden snort and said, "Yes, I daresay—"He stopped, colored in embarrassment for what he was about to say, and then grinned, rather pleased with himself. Lizzie, being bold as she usually was, leaned up to kiss his cheek quickly, and he happily brought the hand still wrapped about his to press to his lips with a happy grin, before looking out the windows to see the Bennet family assembled outside ready to receive them. He took a deep breath and glanced at Georgiana, who he was concerned to be placed in the company of Lydia and Kitty Bennet.

Georgiana and George were gazing at the house with mild curiosity as the carriage pulled to a stop, and Lizzie saw that her youngest sisters were in complete awe of the elegant vessel, and she hoped that their reverence would keep them silent for the remainder of the Darcys' stay. The footman opened the door, and first helped Lizzie out, who was immediately fussed over by her mother, who was caught between the desire to complain of her poor nerves and express her delight that she had been saved by such a generous and handsome man. Her mothers meaning was not lost on Lizzie, and she was a little chagrined that Mrs. Bennet would automatically assume that Mr. Darcy and herself were partial to each other and were therefore destined to marry. It was, of course, true, but that was almost as shocking to Lizzie as it would be for everyone else.

Mr. Bennet smiled at his second daughter, expressing how truly happy he was to see her safely at home once more, and she was genuinely happy to see her father for the first time since she departed for Kent.

Mr. Darcy, his uncle and his sister had exited the carriage, and Darcy bowed to her mother and father. "Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, it is a pleasure to see you both again," he said, and she could detect the faint apprehension present among his features, but whether it was due to his fear of talking, or for being around her parents she did not know. Perhaps both. She studied his demeanor carefully and was slightly dismayed to see that she had been right to know that he would act differently in the present circumstances. His expression was one of cool aloofness, as it had been at that first assembly at Meryton and almost every other time she had seen him in Hertfordshire, except, she thought with a slight smile, when he was sharing an animated conversation and battle of the wits with her.

Before her mother could go into raptures over Mr. Darcy, Lizzie stepped forward and said, "Mama, Papa, might I introduce you to Miss. Georgiana Darcy, Mr. Darcy's sister, and his uncle, Doctor George Darcy," George, who had been standing slightly behind his niece and nephew, had worn colors of a more normal kind, though was still donning his robes from India. Upon seeing her mother's expression, and for that matter everyone else's, she quickly added, "Dr. Darcy has just returned from India, and had agreed to make the journey with us,"

Georgiana curtsied, and Dr. Darcy nearly forgot to make the customary bow, and she soon found she and her traveling party ushered inside for dinner, which was just at that moment being placed on the table.

Mrs. Bennet, being her usual over-hopeful matchmaking self, had seated Mr. Darcy directly on Lizzie's right, a seating arrangement neither of them minded, although Darcy still had his mask of indifference upon his face, and even when she would smile at him, he barely responded likewise, though she had realized halfway through her stay at Pemberly that his eyes were very expressive, so she was satisfied with their stolen glances. She also noted with relief that Georgiana was placed between her Uncle and her Jane, and was rarely sought out to contribute to a conversation by Kitty and Lydia. Jane, Lizzie noticed sadly, still looked slightly desolate, though she hid it well from everyone, and was gently talking to Georgiana about Pemberly. Since Georgiana was naturally shy, she surely felt out of place here, and was thankful for Jane's refined nature.

George Darcy seemed to have a penchant for entertaining young ladies, and it was often that Lydia and Kitty would break out into giggles, or even full out racous laughter that made Lizzie cringe, although George's deep rumbling laugh was also thrown into the mix. Even Mary would smile at some points, and asked about the society in India, which had indeed led to the many jokes he was telling to that side of the table. Mr. Bennet listened indulgently, never one to pass up the opportunity to learn of new places, for he dearly wished to travel, and Mrs. Bennet was attempting to have a conversation with Mr. Darcy from Lizzie's other side, and Lizzie strived to make it more comfortable for her fiancé as was possible.

"Oh Mr. Darcy, how are we ever to repay you for the kindness you have shown my poor Lizzie! Please do say that you intend to stay in Hertfordshire with your merry party?" she asked, forgetting her manners and leaning over her plate slightly to look around her daughter at him.

He seemed to not know which part of her speech to address, and seemed to choose the latter would suffice. "I am madam,"

Lizzie added, "They are staying at Netherfield, Mama, to enjoy the summer weather here." She hoped that her mother would start to speak to her instead of Darcy, but to no avail.

"Netherfield you say, Lizzie?" Mrs. Bennet said, and Lizzie saw Jane's head turn slightly towards them, although remaining attentive to her conversation with Georgiana. "And will you be joined by anyone else, Mr. Darcy?"

Darcy cleared his throat briefly before adding uncomfortably, "We hope to be joined by Mr. Bingley in the course of the week." He met Elizabeth's gaze quickly, then she looked to her eldest sister once more, who had visibly stiffened.

Mrs. Bennet 'harrumphed' and took a bite of her pheasant, stating before she had fully swallowed, "You all quit Netherfield in such a hurry Mr. Darcy, and Mr. Bingley had assured us he would sit to at least three courses with us. I have not forgotten, you see. I am quite determined to show him what excellence he left behind in all his haste." The meaning to her words was not lost on any of them, and Lizzie thought painfully of Jane, and decided she must find a way to change the subject.

However, at that moment she was saved, for George Darcy addressed Mrs. Bennet directly, and she could not avoid answering. Lizzie turned to Darcy slightly as she cut up the remainder of her food. "Have you heard from Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy?" she asked quietly so Jane could not hear, using his name formally in case they were to be over heard.

He shook his head and replied, "No, but it should be easy enough to persuade him should he say no," he paused for a moment and lowered his voice, "Do you believe your sister to still be partial to him?" Lizzie nodded with certainty, taking the last bite of her food. "Then I will speak with him upon his arrival,"

Lizzie sent him a dazzling smile just as Jane looked over at them. Lizzie caught her curious glance and wondered where her sister's thoughts were leading to, and if she suspected the sudden change in affections between Elizabeth and the proud Mr. Darcy.

Dinner was finished, and the Gentleman retired to the Library for brandy with Mr. Bennet, while the ladies went to the parlor, Georgiana staying very close the Lizzie, where they instantly wished to be filled in on everything that had transpired at Pemberly, and if her accident had been terribly awful. Lizzie confessed that she did not remember much of anything concerning her accident, but that only seemed to make it more terrible in their eyes, and Lydia had the gull to say "Oh, if I could only be saved from a terrible accident from a man like Mr. Darcy," and Lizzie could feel Georgiana's embarrassment without even looking at her, but her own thoughts were employed in a topic unrelated to her accident.

She wondered if Mr. Darcy would wait to ask Mr. Bennet for her hand, or if he would ask tonight. She anxiously twisted her hands in her lap, and looked up at the clock. Barely twenty minutes had gone by. "Miss. Elizabeth?" Georgiana said quietly, and Lizzie looked up at her soon to be sister and smiled. "I wonder if you and Miss. Bennet would do me the honor of having tea with me tomorrow afternoon?" she asked, and Lizzie replied that she would be delighted, then, upon further encouragement, described Netherfield to Georgiana, who had yet to see it.

Not ten minutes later did George Darcy arrive in the Parlor to the great delight of the younger girls, and there was no sign of the two other men. Lizzie's heart was pounding vivaciously as he turned to smile at her. "Mr. Bennet requested to speak to Mr. Darcy privately, so I am at your disposal,"

Georgiana smiled encouragingly at Lizzie, who was only feeling even more confused. Her father had requested to speak with him? What had he wanted to ask of Mr. Darcy, or had he merely wanted to express his thanks in saving her? Would William still ask for her hand, or was he going to wait?

At that very moment Darcy was seated opposite Mr. Bennet, trying unsuccessfully to appear more amiable. However as he had expressed to Elizabeth at Rosings, he did not have the talent of conversing with others easily, and was therefore sure to be giving off an air of indifference and perhaps even contempt. He wondered what the older man could possibly have to say to him, but it gave him the opening he needed to ask for Elizabeth's hand, and so he waited in his seat, spine strait and sitting forward in the chair slightly.

"Well Mr. Darcy, I am indeed indebted to you for the rescue of my Lizzie. I would like to express my heartfelt gratitude, and I do hope she was not too much of a burden."

"Not at all Mr. Bennet," Mr. Darcy assured him, adding, "Miss Elizabeth was a lively addition to the otherwise dull atmosphere. It was my pleasure to assist her recovery at Pemberly." Mr. Bennet raised an eyebrow in surprise that Darcy had supplied something more then was strictly necessary, and seemed quite sincere.

"I am aware that purchases were most likely made for her comfort, and the physician fees alone must have been extensive. I would like to pay you back for your generosity," Mr. Bennet said, and Darcy suppressed the will to frown. He knew that the purchases and fees the man spoke of were likely to be hard to scrape up, and he wondered how to reject his offer without sounding rude. He decided to kill two birds with one stone, and in a transition seemingly tacky and a bit cliché, he said, "That will not be necessary Mr. Bennet, as I hope we are to be family soon," He inwardly winced, knowing that he would have Mrs. Bennet to call mother in law, but would accept it to marry Elizabeth. After a moment of confused silence, he elaborated. "Sir, I would like to ask your consent to marry Elizabeth. She has already agreed to have me, and we only await your permission."

Mr. Bennet visibly blanched, and then quickly controlled his expression. Slowly he said, "You must feel very affectionately towards her to marry a woman of her social standing." Mr. Bennet was saying very plainly that he understood the honor Mr. Darcy did their family, but that it was uncommon and therefore utterly puzzled the man.

Darcy quickly confirmed this. "I have been partial to Miss. Bennet since her stay with her oldest sister at Netherfield. It has been many months now since I have come to acknowledge my-my love for her."

Mr. Bennet stroked his chin contemplatively, then replied, "If Lizzie has consented to be your wife, then you have my permission as well."

"Thank you sir," he said, feeling rather relieved for not having been too nervous before. He knew that Mr. Bennet could not politely refuse the offer from a man of his social standing, considering the unfortunate position his wife and daughters found themselves in. It was not a prideful thought, but rather an acknowledgement of the truth. As he stood to leave, Mr. Bennet requested to speak to Lizzie alone.

Mr. Darcy walked to the parlor feeling rather happy, not that anyone would be able to tell by his countenance. He crossed the parlor and took the empty chair Georgiana had vacated not thirty seconds before to tour the gardens with Jane. "Your father wishes to see you," he told her, and she dared not look too hopeful when she gave him a questioning glance. His smile was barely there, but it was enough to reassure her.

She overcame the urge to kiss his cheek, and walked out of the room without a word, hurrying her pace once she was out of sight to everyone else. She knocked on her fathers door, and when he bid her enter, she closed the door quietly behind her, feeling slightly nervous. She cared about her fathers opinion, and while she would elope with Mr. Darcy should the need arise, she wanted to know that he supported her in this decision. As she gauged his expression, he looked concerned and confused among other unidentifiable things.

"I must say Lizzie," he began, clasping his hands in front of him, "When I asked to speak to Mr. Darcy alone and express my gratitude, I did not expect for him to ask for your hand. I was very shocked indeed." She opened her mouth to assure him of her affections when he suddenly exclaimed, "Lizzy, what are you doing? Are you out of your senses, to be accepting this man? Have you not always hated him?" He looked grave and anxious when he spoke, and she felt obligated to explain how she felt about him, however embarrassing it was.

"But Papa I… he is not the man we all thought he is. I have grown rather fond of him, more then fond if I may be so bold." She assured him, tripping over her own words. She had gone over this conversation many times since her engagement, and could never quite decide on what would be the best approach with her father.

"Or, in other words, you are determined to have him. He is rich, to be sure, and could provide for you quite adequately. You will never want for material items, but will that make you happy?"

"Have you any other objection," said Lizzie, beginning to chew on her nails as was an old anxious habit she thought she had quit, "than your belief in my indifference?"

"None at all," he said simply, "We all know him to be a proud, unpleasant sort of man; but this would mean nothing if you really liked him." He added, and she smiled happily.

"I do, I do like him," she assured him as fast as politely possible, and suddenly teary eyed, she added, "I love him. Indeed he has no improper pride. He is perfectly amiable. You do not know him as I do papa, what he really is. Prey you do not pain me by speaking of him in such terms." She paused, and decided to elaborate a bit. "My stay at Pemberly was not in the best of circumstances to be sure, but I became acquainted with his real character and learned that what people misunderstand to be a prideful aloof man, is really the kindest and… and affection man, but only shy."

Her father chuckled a bit and replied reassuringly, "Lizzie, I have given him my consent. His is the kind of man, indeed, to whom I should never dare refuse anything, which he condescended to ask. I now give it to _you, _if you are resolved on having him. But let me advise you to think better of it. I know your disposition, Lizzy. I know that you could never be neither happy nor respectable, unless you truly esteemed your husband; unless you looked up to him as a superior. Your lively talents would place you in the greatest danger of an unequal marriage. You could scarcely escape discredit and misery. My child, let me not have the grief of seeing _you _unable to respect your partner in life. You know not what you are about."

"Papa," she said, then walked over and took one of his hands in her own. "Mr. Darcy is the man I choose. Not for his money or consequence and connections. I love him as he loves me, _has _loved me from when I could not see past my own prejudices. Even when he knew of my… my hatred of him he did not waver, and it is my own follies that have thus prevented an earlier retrieval of my blissful happiness. We are so alike!" she exclaimed with sudden revelation, "We are both so stubborn and devoted to our own ideals and expectations and-and—"

"Well my dear," he said laughing a bit and sparing her from struggling some more for words, "I have no more to say. If this be the case, he deserves you. I could not have parted with you, my Lizzie, to anyone less worthy."

Lizzie kissed the top of her father's head then exited the room hurriedly to once more be in the presence of her fiancé. She left behind her father chuckling happily to himself.

())}-%-

That evening, as she watched the carriage pull away from her room with Jane, she felt a feeling of unexpected bliss overcome her, and she turned around with a happy sigh to see Jane staring at her in confusion. "What is it Lizzie? You have been acting nearly as absurdly as Kitty or Lydia, though perhaps a bit more discreet." She added.

"Oh Jane, did you not receive my last letter?" she asked confusedly, and Jane shook her head.

"I left our aunt and uncle's earlier then expected. They promised to forward all of my mail, since I was expecting your reply. I can see now that you are in excellent health however, no less then I expected. Why?" she said puzzled.

"Jane, I am to marry Mr. Darcy!" Lizzie said, her smile huge, and Jane's expression one of complete shock.

"You are joking Lizzie! Engaged to Mr. Darcy? I know he has been kind to you as of late, but what of your previous opinions of him? Did he not slight you in such an inconsiderate way? No, no you shall not deceive me, it cannot be true."

"This is a wretched beginning indeed! If I cannot convince you, then how am I to expect others to believe me? I assure you it is true Jane. He loves me and I him, and we are to be married." She assured her sister, who still refused to believe such things

"I know of your feelings on the man, please do not marry him for his money Lizzie out of obligation for your sisters! I cannot bare to see you marry without affection as you have sworn you would not do."

Lizzie then tried her very best to explain to her sister all that had transpired between the two, much the same as her conversation with her father only more in depth. No one could deny that Miss Elizabeth Bennet was a woman much in love, no matter how unbelievable it was, and though it still struck Lizzie at some moments as an odd and unlikely thing, she succeeded in convincing her sister of her sincere feelings, and those of Mr. Darcy. "He is such a different person then we all thought him Jane, and there have been more misunderstandings between us then I care to remember. But he has always loved me, even when he could not admit it to himself, and now that I see I return his feelings, I could not be any happier then I am now. Well… maybe perhaps when we are married," she said with a devious smirk at the memory of the feelings their simple kisses had inspired in her.

"Oh Lizzie, hold your tongue!" Jane said, a bit scandalized, but she was smiling happy. "My dear, dear Lizzie! I do congratulate you, though I still find it hard to believe, you have me completely swayed. But, please forgive me, are you quite certain you can be happy with him?"

"Oh yes Jane! I feel the happiest of people when I am with him, and rather surprisingly desolate without him. Even now I yearn for his return." Both sisters blushed at this less than proper comment. "It is settled between us that we are to be the happiest couple in the world."

"Will you tell me how long you have loved him?" Jane inquired.

Lizzie contemplated it for a moment. "I think I have loved him for as long as he has loved me, though I was too much blinded by my own prejudice to realize or admit it. But I believe I believed it of myself upon my stay at Pemberly, which despite everything will be forever remembered as one of the best times of my life."

())}-%-

The next morning dawned, warm and bright, the sun slowly brought Lizzie awake, and she was momentarily confused about her surrounding, having become quickly accustomed to the splendor of her room at Pemberley. She noticed that it was rather late and that after spending much of the night awake talking to Jane, she must have slept in later then usual.

Lizzie immediately sprang up to wash and dress, knowing that she had tea with Georgiana and an excellent opportunity to see William. She hurried down the stairs to where her family was just finishing their breakfast, when suddenly Mrs. Bennet cried out.

"Oh Lizzie! My Lizzie, married to _Mr. Darcy! _I am all a flutter! Think of all the gowns and jewels and fine carriages you shall have! Oh, just wait until I tell Lady Lucas when she comes to tea this afternoon! How jealous she should be that her daughter only married a _rector_!"

"Mama!" Lizzie said in protest, ignoring the covetous looks and giggles of her youngest sisters. The next fifteen minutes were of a similar fashion and, suddenly fed up, Lizzie grabbed her outdoor clothing and boots and stomped off to the familiar paths that led through the nearest woods. She walked for ten minutes more, not realizing she was walking in the general direction of Netherfield until she heard the sound of horse hooves, and broke through the trees to see none other then Mr. Darcy riding though the field. He stopped abruptly at seeing her figure emerge, and even from her distance she could see the smile that alit his face, hers matching.

He galloped over to her and slid off his horse to greet her. "Good Morning my Lizzie," he said, and she felt a thrilling rush of the natural sounding possessive he used.

"Good morning William," she said delightedly as he tied his horse to the nearest tree. "Out for a morning ride?"

"A habit of mine," he admitted, turning to her. "You are no doubt taking your morning walk,"

"How observant," she said a bit sarcastic but with a teasing grin gracing her expression, and he smiled back, but his expression changed significantly. He took a step towards her and her face between his hands, searching her face for something, but she wasn't sure what.

"Are you well this morning Lizzie?" He asked, and she nodded.

"And you William? Is your tongue sore at all?" her eyes sparkled with mirth, and he chuckled a bit, but his only response was to lean in and kiss her slowly, in a way that made her knees weak, and she wondered vaguely that if she had this sort of reaction when he kissed her, how she should feel on their wedding night! But thoughts like this only tended to make her feel even more wanton, and she moaned while bringing her arms to wrap around his neck. He softly urged her lips apart, something she was willing to comply with, and the depth given to the kiss was nothing she had ever expected. She was starting to feel light headed from lack of oxygen, but cared not as his hands traveled to her waist to pull her closer yet.

His horse made a noise that resembled an impatient sigh, and Mr. Darcy suddenly froze. The hands at her waist clenched into fists, and then he gently pushed her away, resting his forehead on hers as they both struggled to catch their breath. "I'm sorry," he said slowly. "That was—"

"Wonderful," Lizzie supplied, and then blushed.

Darcy laughed, and agreed. "But it was wrong too," he reprimanded, and Lizzie smiled at him.

"That never stopped you before Mr. Darcy," her tone was teasing, and the disentangled themselves though she kept a firm grip on his arm and attempted to walk a bit with him, but he would not budge.

"That was in the privacy of my own home," said Darcy rather gruffly, his face bright red. "And I require a moment," he added, and she gazed at him, uncomprehendingly. Surely he was not so affected that he could not walk? Then she looked down, and with wide eyes immediately looked back at his face. How could she not have noticed that before?

He refused to meet her eyes, and despite her embarrassment, and his own, she could not help but feel a bit proud of herself for arousing such a reaction in him. She smiled reassuringly at him. It was, after all, something she was going to have to get used to in the future.

Finally, after long moments of silence, he felt himself recovered enough to walk, and they did not broach the subject. Instead, he said, "May I call on you again tonight?"

"Of course," Lizzie said happily, despite the fact that she was due at Netherfield in but a couple hours. If she was honest, she had grown so accustomed to spending her days with him, that even a few hours gone without him felt odd, and she wondered if he felt the same.

They talked of many things, and when asked if Bingley was expected to arrive, Darcy informed her he was that night or early the next morning. Lizzie was delighted at the news, and frankly could not suppress her happiness that Jane would perhaps get another chance to be the future Mrs. Bingley.

Eventually they had to part. "It will look odd if I am away for too long, and I suspect the same for you," Darcy reasoned. Lizzie saw no fault in this, and had to make herself content with a chaste kiss goodbye, and the thoughts that she would see him in a couple hours.

Her walk back to Longborne was rather distracted for her, as she tried to recall every moment of her kiss with Mr. Darcy. It had excited feelings in her, in places she was not aware of existing, and she found herself very much wanting to repeat the experience, and could not believe her luck at such a chance encounter with the man she loved.

She was preparing to step up over a fallen tree when there was the snap of a twig rather close behind her. Figuring it was a forest animal of some sort, for there was never much of anything else in these trees, she turned with a smile on her face, only to be replaced with a suppressed scream of terror.

Before her was a tall, muscular man, who immediately placed a hand across her mouth. There came the sound of more movement through the trees, and her arms were forcibly restrained behind her. Lizzie, with her heart beating erratically and breathing being laborious due to the large hand across her nose and mouth, struggled to break free to no avail. The hand was replaced with a foul smelling, discusting piece of fabric jammed between her teeth, and she started to gag, hoping she did not vomit.

"Now behave yourself, pretty, and perhaps it might be painless."

**Wow. That took **_**forever **_**to write. That makes you all fortunate that I had a whole day of nothing. I hope you liked this chapter. I thought it would be more dramatic, but alas I got too descriptive, and I always wondered what Mr. Darcy's side of the whole marriage consent was. I obviously used many of the sentences from the book, though I changed them around a bit to fit the plot. The Next chapter is planned to be fairly dramatic. You can expect Mr. Darcy to be blaming himself significantly, as it is in his nature. I still haven't decided if I'm actually going to kill Lizzie and have her return as a vampire or zombie. Would that make you all hate my story, because I rather like the idea. Think Darcy would still marry her? Haha, of course I'm kidding. At least about the whole vampire/zombie thing. That was a nice 5162 word chapter, my longest for this story by far. I remember someone saying in the reviews that they wished the previous chapter being longer, and so I complied with this one. Thoughts? =D**


	18. Gone

**Dear me! (haha, I've always wanted to say that!) I was utter surprised to see the reaction to my teasing about turning Lizzie into a Vampire or Zombie. Of course I wouldn't destroy the plot like that. I absolutely refuse to read pride &prejudice and zombies. I shudder to think of how disastrously they killed Jane Austen's work. I'm sorry that this chapter will be delayed a few days. As of when I'm typing this its been two since I updated, and since my birthday is tomorrow (the 18****th****) I cant guarantee it'll be up until the 19****th****. I will endeavor to update as speedily as possible for you all. I cannot express my shock or gratitude at the number of reviews for my last chapter. Keep it coming! I'm not lying when I say it's my greatest motivator. There's nothing like unappreciated work to kill spirits…**

**I have another story recommendation. Inevitable Change by acuppajava. It's a 'what if' story like my own. What if Darcy never found Lydia and Wickham. I must say it was a very emotional story, and I found myself wishing a certain character to die a very slow and painful death…. **

**And I will put it here now that I have unfortunately never read Wuthering heights, but I felt this quote very appropriate for my chapter. =]**

_"If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger: I should not seem a part of it."  
- Emily Bronte, __Wuthering Heights__, Ch. 9_

Gone.

Darcy raced his horse speedily back to Netherfield, feeling excited for the day stretched ahead of him, totally and completely full of Elizabeth. Only those who knew him well knew how to read though his stony exterior to find his true emotions, and it hadn't take Georgiana long to see how completely blissfully happy he had been upon returning to the parlor the previous night.

She, of course, had to wait until they were alone in the carriage with their uncle before she could cry excitedly, "He said yes?" And when Darcy merely nodded, she placed a hand over her mouth to muffle her excited girly squeals, causing him to break out into a huge smile at last.

The remainder of their stay with the Bennet's had been something like torture and excessive happiness that numbed him to the incessant ramblings of Mrs. Bennet and her youngest daughters. When Lizzie had returned with a smile Mrs. Bennet had rather loudly declared to be 'indecent,' he thought his heart would burst from happiness, but of course he kept his expression carefully mandated, and only hoped she could tell the extent of his happiness. She took her seat next to him, and they were silent for the remainder of his stay, until he and his family took their leave. He lingered in the parlor with Lizzie while everyone filed out to bid their adieus in the front entrance, and he took her hand in his and bestowed upon it a lingering kiss.

"He said yes?" He had whispered, and when she nodded, he swiftly leaned in to kiss her, while pulling her into a standing position. Together, they left the room feeling as if nothing could be better then that moment.

Of course, Darcy thought to himself as he dismantled from his horse in the stables, the moment they had shared that morning was exceedingly spectacular in itself, albeit a bit embarrassing on his part.

"Darcy!" a familiar voice cried jovially, and Darcy turned feeling mildly surprised at the early arrival of his dear friend Charles Bingley.

"Hello Charles, I trust your trip was pleasant?" Darcy asked, meeting him at the stable doors, and they bowed to each other, Bingley rather enthusiastically.

He waved his hand to wave away the question and instead wasted no time on the subject that was obviously so interesting to you. "I must say I was surprised to read your letter, but not nearly as shocked as I was with the contents of it. Engaged! To Miss Elizabeth Bennet!" he cried incredulously, and Darcy actually laughed a bit.

"I assure you it is all true Bingley, though I still find myself doubting it from time to time. I am extremely fortunate," They walked together back towards the manor. It was still rather early, but Darcy suspected that Georgiana was awake and breakfasting with their uncle. She was no doubt talking excitedly of the tea party she was having that afternoon with her soon to be sister-in-laws.

"I must say I was… surprised at your choice of wife. But then again I never could understand you Darcy. Did you not say that Miss Elizabeth was not handsome enough to tempt you? What inspired such a change?"

"Time," Darcy said simply. "Time, a pair of fine eyes, and rather insistent love; Miss Elizabeth had become the most important part of my life before I had ever realized she was in it."

Bingley was silent for a moment, then he pulled open the door and began to laugh jovially as they handed away their coats and hats to the footmen. "Her father gave his consent?"

"Yes, yes. He is rather intimidating in a discrete way." Darcy had the sudden forethought to mention, "Miss Elizabeth and Miss Jane will be arriving for tea this afternoon."

Bingley visibly swallowed. "Miss Jane… Bennet?"

"Who else?" Darcy asked. "Charles, I must apologize to you…" And he went on to explain how he and his sisters had imagined Bingley to be in trouble of making an offer to a girl of little circumstance or affection towards him, and had planned to follow him in London and prevent his return to Hertfordshire, where they had also later on agreed to hide the fact of Jane Bennet's presence in town. He also spoke of the affection he was convinced Jane held for him, that he had been so blind to just a few months ago.

Darcy ended his speech apologizing once more, and Bingley could only merely gaze at him. Darcy watched as his eyes displayed all the emotions that must have been rolling through him. Anger, hope, betrayal… they were all there, and Darcy once more felt terrible for the pain he had brought Charles, Jane, and subsequently his Elizabeth.

"You—I—I cannot believe this of you Darcy!" Bingley spluttered, his face turning rather red.

"I am not proud of it Charles, but at the time I thought I was saving you from a lifetime stuck in a marriage of unrequited love! But I believe Miss Jane holds you in high esteem and cares just as much for you as you for her." Darcy reasoned. He felt his apology to be inadequate, but he hoped it would not dissolve his friendship with Bingley.

Bingley looked skeptical. "If you believed her indifferent in November, what difference has six months done?"

"Nothing has changed, she cared for you even then," Darcy explained once again, feeling mildly exasperated. "Miss Elizabeth found out about my interference somehow and… reprimanded me severely. If Miss Elizabeth is wrong about her sister, then you may never speak to me again for I have given you hope once more."

Bingley sighed. "Very well Darcy. If Miss Jane consents to be my wife I shall forgive you."

The rest of the morning and beginning of the afternoon was spent in companionable entertainment. Darcy, his sister and uncle, and Mr. Bingley spent a few happy hours in either the sitting room or the music room. Georgiana's talents on the piano had improved so much since the last time either George or Charles had heard her, they both enthusiastically gave her a standing ovation, while Darcy laughed from his settee, applauding as well. Georgiana could barely contain her embarrassment.

When it was time to prepare for their guests, Darcy left his small group with a bow, eager to move to the front study where there was an excellent view of the drive. He couldn't stop himself from recalling that stolen moment amongst the trees that morning, and was impatient for the day they were married so that he wouldn't feel so guilty acting upon his impulses as he had.

He was leafing through a book of romance poetry (the poems having much more appeal to him now then ever before) When he heard the unmistakable sound of a horse galloping up to Netherfield at top speed. He looked up and sure enough there was a man halting the chestnut horse just before the steps, dismantling and knocking on the door.

Curious as to what an express letter could be, when all he had been previously corresponding to were currently situated in Hertfordshire, except for Colonel Fitzwilliam, whom he had seen just under two days prior. He arrived in the foyer just in time to hear Bingley call out his name, sounding rather troubled.

"What is it Charles?" he asked, his brow furrowing in concern for the expression on his friends face.

"Here, read it. I could not—I cannot—I am sorry, it was addressed just to Netherfield-"

Darcy snatched the letter out of Bingley's hand and read-

_My dear sir,_

_I apologize for the absence of my daughters from your gathering this afternoon, but I feel you will not be too scandalized when I explain our rather grievous situation. _

_This morning, my second daughter, your betrothed, went on a walk in the early hours. We have not seen or heard from Elizabeth since before her departure, and so we are conducting a search. I beg your hasty arrival to assist in the discovery and recovery of my Lizzie._

_Your Servant,_

_Mr. A. Bennet_

Darcy felt frozen in place, his hands gripped the letter so that it creased in his fists, and he ignored his recently arrived sisters urgent inquiries as to what the pressing problem.

"Darcy… Darcy!" Bingley cried, and his eyes tore themselves away from the pristine marbel of the floor to his friend. "We must assist!"

"Yes… yes," and he was out the door and on the verge of a full sprint towards the stables. He was acting on instinct now, and he told himself he must make it to Longborne as quickly as possible.

He found it impossible to consider that in the space of time between their regretful departure from each other and her journey home she had been lost or wounded. Therefore the only logical explanation was that he had been kidnapped. The thought inspired anger in him never experienced, and he was urging the horse out of the stables before he was fully seated.

Darcy decided to cut a path through the woods, starting where they had met and head in the direction of Longborne for which she had departed. He berated himself the whole way for not escorting her back to her home, propriety be damned. He rode his horse with such a fury through the fields that he was almost repentant for pushing his horse so, and even had to remind himself to slow upon approaching the tree line.

Darcy refused to linger, however; the site of their last kiss unbearable to him. He led his horse through the woods, though there was no distinctive path. His eyes roamed every inch of space he could see, looking for any clues as to her where-abouts. Finally, he spotted something. Darcy jumped down from his horse, who took the opportunity to drink greedily from a trickle of water down the side of a rock formation into a clear pool no wider then two, maybe three feet. He slowly reached down, and pulled the green silky fabric from out of the brush. He remembered thinking the color went nicely with her eyes, and the texture of it was tantalizing as he ran his fingers down her sides. It was the ribbon tied just under her bust line, a trivial thing he would not have noticed on anyone but her, and perhaps Georgiana. But what was more troublesome then a stray piece of fabric, that could have been missed even when not in distress, was the nearly dry bloodstain obscuring its rich green color for nearly five inches.

For the second time that year, and all because of her, Darcy felt a tear leak from his eyes.

She was gone.

())}-%-

"_Now behave yourself, pretty, and perhaps it might be painless."_

Elizabeth tried with all her might to scream out through the foul tasting cloth, in hopes that perhaps Darcy was still close enough, or that she had made it near enough to her home that someone would hear her. But it was a pointless effort, the noise being muffled by the cloth. A man somewhere behind her laughed at her pitiful attempt and forced her to her knees. She heard another twig crack as someone shifter their weight, a boot being scuffed about the ground, and from the corner of her eye, saw the shiny glint of metal slowly come closer, until its cold sharpness was resting gently against her neck.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and willed herself to be brave, to be anything instead of scared. After a few moments of hesitation by the man holding the knife, she opened her eyes determined to stare down anyone who dared make eye contact with her, wishing the mere act would kill someone stone dead. She shuddered when she felt warm fingers run themselves through her hair, then make a fist on her scalp. Elizabeth couldn't help but cry out when he harshly brought her head back so that she could look up at the sky, but instead saw a harsh face with plenty of scars and dirt. His eyes were a stone grey that held no mercy for her, and as he observed her face, the knife on her throat moved down to her shoulders, not hard enough to draw blood, but she was sure there were angry red marks in the knife's wake. It continued its travels until it got just below her breasts, then it stopped.

"My my, she is a beautiful one" He sneered, and the rest of his men laughed. Elizabeth had heard of the vicious men who took what they wanted from women, including their sacred virtue. There were many cases where the female victim did not make it out of line, and with his hand in sudden close proximity to her bosom, Lizzie found herself imagining all the horrendous things that could be done to her, and could possibly actually happen.

In a sudden wild attempt to get away, to run with all her might back to the safety of her home, she lurched backwards towards the man but away from the knife, hoping to knock his legs out from underneath him, trying to ignore the searing sensation in her scalp since the man still had a hold of her hair.

He was strong however, and even all her strength couldn't knock him down, and he only pulled her closer to him. "Feisty too. Don't get too many of them proper ones with fire in them, eh Edward?" The man looked up to another, who was leaning against the tree, looking thoroughly disgusted with the treatment they were showing her, despite the laughter of the other three men.

"I said Quick and painless Andrew," He mumbled, scratching behind his ear. He wouldn't even look at Elizabeth, but she felt this was the man who would save her out of pity or guilt. If he would only _look _at her….

The man bent down so that his head would be level to hers, his hot breath moist and unwelcome on her skin. "Quick and painless it is," and she gasped as she felt the blade penetrate the skin just under her heart at a quick upward angle.

"Wait!" someone exclaimed. There was a moment where all she could comprehend was the warmth of blood spreading down her dress, and she watched her green ribbon, a gift from Jane that had been severed by the knife, float down to the ground , where it was swept up by a gust of wind to become entangled in a near by bush. Then the pain hit her when the man, Andrew, slowly withdrew the knife. Elizabeth gasped for breath from behind the gag as the searing pain rocketed through her torso. It was the worst pain she could ever remember experiencing, the second being a fractured wrist from falling out of a tree when she was nine. The blood was coming out fast as the man released her, and she bent over with a hand attempting to stem the flow, the other attempting to support her weight even though she could already feel the strength seep out of her.

"This isn't necessary," the same voice that spared her life said, and she looked up to see the man addressed as Edward to be walking towards her. He was ripping off the bottom of his dirty cotton shirt, then ripping it again to tie it together to make a longer cloth. He refused to meet her eyes still, but he started to wrap the cloth around her tightly as a sort of way to absorb the blood and apply pressure enough to stop blood flow.

Andrew growled, "You heard the Lady. We don't get paid unless this one is dead!" His words made no sense to Elizabeth, but nothing was making too much sense to her at that moment. There were sounds of agreement. Andrew was clearly the most respected in the group of scoundrels, but Edward was the one with all the authority.

Edward picked up Elizabeth in his arms, and the swift movement made her feel even more lightheaded then she had felt before he picked her up due to her loss of blood. She thought vaguely that if she wasn't careful, the next time she came across strong men who liked to harm innocent women, she would lose all her blood and cease to be alive. Her lightheadedness was making her delusional to be sure, and she wondered if she could live without blood. She would become like the fabled myths of vampires she had read about once….

"You may tell her ladyship she is dead. I'll make sure no one is aware of her continued existence. You will have your money Andrew." More snaps of twigs and crunching of leaves followed this statement as she felt her body being jolted about. Was he moving? She was unsure. Perhaps the earth was shaking? Her hearing became muffled, and the sunlight that invaded her eyelids stung and her chest was still on fire with pain. Elizabeth succumbed to unconsciousness gratefully.

-%-{(()

Darcy stood before Mr. Bennet revealing all that had transpired between himself and Elizabeth that morning, assuring the man that nothing untoward had happened (a blatant lie) and that the meeting had not been planned between them (the honest truth.) He resisted the urge to start pacing, or the even greater one that told him to leave this place and never return until he found her. His hand clenched around the ribbon he had brought back with him to show her father. He wanted something to be done, but what?

At that moment, he heard Mrs. Bennet walk past the study door. "…Lucas my dear Lizzie has disappeared! She is such a flighty thing that I was always worried something like this should happen, and here we are! Oh, my dear Lady Lucas, what if she…" her voice trailed off as she and her guest made their way to the sitting room. Darcy tried to control his temper towards the woman who had all the vocal assurances of caring, but none of the action to compensate.

Darcy had resolved himself to a lifetime of searching for her if it had come to that. He had just won her over, only to have her snatched away right under his nose in the midst of all their happiness. Fate can be cruel, Love, though worth it, can cause great pain. His world was crumbling around him, and he knew this would ruin him forever if he did not find her. To him, she would never be gone.

**I just had the greatest idea for the direction of this story, and while I had been planning on ending it within the next two or three chapters, I can now saw it will probably be at least ten more. I make no promises, since I change my mind all the time when I write. But hey, I just spent an hour and a half writing this chapter on my **_**birthday. **_**You are all welcome. I like chocolate, Jane Austen, and umm… reviews! Its slightly shorter then the previous one, but I have family coming over soon, and I wanted to get this up asap since everyone is demanding it. Someone told me that sleep is not important, but I don't think I will go that far lol. **

***Did you guys see my vampire reference in there? I put that in just to bug you guys, since everyone so adamantly protested the idea made in jest. Ha. **


	19. Felicity

**Thank you all for the birthday wishes! I actually perused the last chapter to gratify my own need to know where the story is headed. I know I always say I know, but then sometimes the characters seem to have a mind of their own. **_**I **_**was worried for Lizzie while writing her scene concerning the knife. So I have a general idea, but I'm letting what I know about the characters lead me on, rather then where I want the plot to lead. It's confusing, I know. **

**I do feel obligated to reply to one review that stood out to be by **_**meggilin. **_**If you guys didn't know from my profile, I just turned 17, and she (he?) Expressed their surprise at that. I did laugh at your surprise and I thank you very much for commendation on my work. I still feel like my writing is** **mediocre at best, but when I look at old work of mine, I realize I have gotten better, and that I continue to learn. Oh, and thank you for what you said for the title of the story. I don't like it, but if you feel it is suitable, I shall leave it as it is. =D**

**I start my first job this weekend, and my semester at college starts soon as well, so I'm not sure how frequent my posts will be, but starting today I will put most of my free time into it. Thank you all so, **_**so **_**much for the enthusiasm. I hope I do not disappoint.**

_Felicity_

When Lizzie woke, the first thing she noticed was that shy was lying something rather stiff and hard, as if she were sprawled about the floor. The second thing she noticed was that the pain in her chest was as present as ever, though she realized with great relief that the wound was no longer bleeding.

Her eyes refused to open, and seemed to be crusted shut. She raised her left arm to brush away the sore reluctance of her eyelids, but her arm immediately dropped, a gasp of pain escaping her lips.

The noise she had not noticed in the background suddenly died. She painstakingly wrenched one eye open, only to gaze upon a face she did not recognize.

It was a girl of perhaps twelve, with long reddish hair that seemed dulled by their dim surroundings. The color reminded her a little of Miss Caroline Bingley's hair color, consequently her brother and Hertfordshire. She had left behind someone important… Lizzie's eyes were suddenly filled to the brim with tears when she remembered her engagement to Mr. Darcy, a fact that still held a dream-like quality to her. She unwillingly let out strangled sob that was a mingled result of her pain, and her dire situation she knew nothing of. If there was any positive side to her tears, it made opening her eyes easier.

"Oh please miss, do not cry," The young girl said, and she looked anxiously over to her shoulder. "We are to be quiet I am told, for father might have gotten himself into trouble once more." She sighed, then colored upon realizing what she had said.

Lizzie struggled to master her emotions once more, something that was much harder then it should be for her. Her head still gave her the sensation of dizziness, and she had a rather painful headache coming on now that she was conscious.

She tried to distract herself from her many health problems by trying to figure out where she was. Not even bothering to attempt to sit up, she looked about the room. It was elegantly furnished, though perhaps out of style by about twenty to twenty five years. It was dimly lit, and she realized the windows were thrown into shadow by tall buildings of close proximity. Attempting to make her mouth less dry, she said in a hoarse whisper- "Where am I?"

"You are in London miss, though I have been told not to tell you where exactly." The girl readily supplied, and she walked across the room to a pitcher and quickly cleaned out a cup on a shelf, only to fill it with water and cross the room to hand it to Lizzie. She stared at the cup apprehensively, noting the slight dust that was collected about the rim. But she was in desperate need of something to drink, and so, trying her best not to actually touch the cup, drank the warm water greedily, her hand shaking all the while from the effort and strength required.

The young girl took the cup back, and continued to stare at her reluctant guest in wonder. "What is your name miss?" she asked, setting the cup down behind her with barely a glance. Her eyes remained trained on Elizabeth with an unsettling intensity.

"Elizabeth," she said after some deliberation. "Yours?" Lizzie could barely keep herself awake to hear the answer, exhaustion threatening to overcome her like a powerful wave determined to drag her out to sea.

The strange young girl with the beautiful red hair leaned down, placing her elbows upon the table which Lizzie was resting upon, her chin resting in her hands. Elizabeth's last conscious thought was the irony of the answer she received. "I'm Felicity."

())}-%-

It had been three days since Edward Vernor's arrival in London with his captive. The trip had been a hard one, having to use all his intellect and cunning to transport the girl with little suspicion. He had no coach of his own, but had, for the majority of the trip until they had reached the city, supported her limp body on horseback.

The home of his mistress used to be one of fashion and glory, but when the trends moved on; the house had remained stubbornly in the past. Maintenance had been neglected, and his mistress, a Miss Harriet Kingston, had found herself upon her parents' death with a house of little value. She was lucky in the fact that her father's estate had never been entailed, and so lived alone. She refused to marry anyone but Edward, which was impossible due to his current wives state of excellent health.

It had indeed been a remarkable shock to them some thirteen years ago to learn that he had impregnated Harriet when they had attempted all possible means to avoid such an occurrence. However he had looked upon the arrival of a child happily, his wife being unable to conceive for unknown reasons.

His daughter, Felicity, was a rather odd little girl, who indeed seemed to be wise beyond her years, and possessed an insightfulness her father could never hope to have. He had often gone to her for her opinion in trivial matters concerning friends or even his wife, just to hear her view on the matter. Her fiery red hair was a surprising feature, as both of her parents were brunettes, and the only features he could find of himself in her were his startling green eyes and shape of her lips.

He dearly wished she was a proper child of his, that he had had the courage to ask his wife to fake a pregnancy coinciding with Harriet's true once so that he may raise his child properly, but alas, he could not own up to the shame of having a mistress in the first place, and so had to accept the fate of his daughter. He provided for her when he could without drawing suspicion, and his attachment was so strong that he took up projects and jobs that paid with discrepancy.

The recent one had been too much for his character, however, and now he found himself in a rather odd position indeed. He had a seriously wounded young lady as his captive currently asleep on the secondary dining table (the first convenient place to place her) in the home of his mistress and illegitimate child. She had only awakened once on her first day in Harriet's home, enough to ask of her location and of his daughters name. Now, three days later, he paced in front of her in a most desperate quandary.

For his captive, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, was suffering from the effects of wound infection. Her temperature was much warmer then normal, her breathing erratic and puffiness about the stab would that gave the appearance of a lopsided bosom. However, he could not call upon a physician without explaining what it was that ailed her, which would only bring up uncomfortable questions he could have no answer to but the truth.

"Perhaps, father," Felicity spoke up from her seat beside the ailing young lady as she diligently attended to her fever by placing rags of cool water upon her forehead, "You should search out any relations she may have in London, and leave her there to be discovered in the morning."

Edward sighed. He had regretted asking Felicity's opinion of his less then formidable business endeavors many months back, for she took an eager interest in the intricacies of them, and seemed to have a knack for espionage and deception. He shook his head. "She is not supposed to be alive at the present moment Felicity. She was to be killed!" He looked over at the young girl he had learned to be recently engaged to a wealthy man of Derbyshire. He felt anger directed inwardly at himself for being a part of her kidnapping, to someone he had been deceived into understanding deserved such a terrible fate. He wondered if his interference with Andrew's attempts at stabbing her in the heart only made her death more painful and prolonged. She certainly looked as if she would make it no longer then another two or three days at best.

He turned on his heel suddenly and on his way out of the room, he added bitterly, "Lady Lucas made it perfectly clear."

-%-{(()

It took all of Lady Lucas's restraint to keep the happy smile from her face as she sat in the parlor of her 'friend' Mrs. Bennet. True they had always had an understanding with each other, and always delighted in sharing gossip to anything and everything, but these past few months made her grow in resentment towards the woman.

Lady Lucas had at first, upon the first arrival of the Netherfield party in the fall, been determined to marry her quickly aging daughter Charlotte to either the agreeable Mr. Bingley or the proud but significantly rich Mr. Darcy. However, it soon became apparent that Mr. Bingley had set his sights on the eldest Bennet daughter, a fact that Mrs. Bennet frequently sought to brag about, and Lady Lucas had turned her sights on Mr. Darcy.

At this point in time, her husband, Sir William Lucas, had made some rather regretful choices that were driving their estate into poverty, the least of which was gambling excessively whenever business called him to town. She had no wish to know what other frivolous activities their money was disappearing to, but she became more and more desperate to find a man for her daughters that would help them see more money.

Two weeks previous to the Netherfield ball, Lady Lucas had fallen ill with fever; pneumonia the doctor had said, and though she recovered remarkably fast, the doctor feared that her mind has suffered from the high temperature her body had been subject to. She refused to see that she was at all changed, but had instead impressed upon her husband the fact that they were soon going to be in the clutches of debt, and the people of Meryton and surrounding villages would hear of their disgrace. Instead of urging him to break his habits, however, she had taken a more malicious approach to their problems.

Their first client had been a very wealthy man indeed, and though Sir Lucas had been uncomfortable with the killings of innocents, that had to admit the paying was of substantial amounts, and his countenance amongst strangers and acquaintances and friends alike, had not changed at all. They at first had to perform the odious task themselves, but performed with discretion with objects such as poison to aid them, or perhaps an accidental fall down the stairs. They asked no questions as to why their employer wanted a person dead, and Lady Lucas above all showed a shocking penchant for the activity. Indeed, Sir Lucas feared she rather enjoyed such a sinful occupation, though only in the privacy of his thoughts.

They had eventually saved up the means to hire other people to perform the task while they usually remained comfortably in their home at Hertfordshire. It was indeed a job that could be performed by the people who asked of their services, but Lady Lucas never saw fit to point such a fact out, and delighted in the riches she suddenly found their selves possessing, certainly enough to recommend her daughter to someone like Mr. Darcy. Now they had the money to match their title, and she imagined an offer from him would come in due time.

At this point she still refused to believe her mind had at all been affected during her sickness, and her husband still went along with the business he had all the appearance of running and she with all the actual action. It was with anger and shock the Netherfield party had suddenly quit the area. The engagement of her daughter Charlotte to the relation of the Bennet's, a Mr. Collins, did little to quell her efforts, and instead she decided that Maria was intended to be the future Mrs. Darcy, for she even had good looks to recommend her. Though she did take certain pleasure in knowing that upon Mr. Bennet's demise, Longborne would fall into the ownership of Charlotte's husband. Yes, she was content with her daughter's marriage, and had somehow deceived herself into believing Darcy had turned his special attentions to Maria, and had merely left for business and would be returning soon to make an offer.

When no such thing happened, Lady Lucas was indignant, and expressed herself as such to her husband. He had suggested that Mr. Darcy held no particular feelings for their youngest daughter, but had immediately regretted his choice of words in lieu of his wife's reaction. It was a commonly acknowledged fact that while the men were considered to be the authorative figures, but the women always had a strong influence over all.

She immersed herself in the unlawful proceedings of her 'company,' while her daughter, husband, and Miss Elizabeth Bennet made their way to Kent to visit Charlotte. How shocked was she to receive a missive from Maria that Mr. Darcy seemed to acknowledge none of their party more then strictly necessary apart from Miss Bennet, whom he had a particular interest in.

Lady Lucas was beside herself in jealousy. That Mrs. Bennet's daughters, who were so wrongly considered to be the beauties of the country, received all the best attention. She immediately set to work on ensuring Elizabeth Bennet was alone and far away from home by having her man fabricate a rather convincing letter of Jane Bennet's imminent trouble, and even going as far as to stop Jane's letters of correspondence to her sister.

She was particularly proud of herself that she had successfully lured the woman north, and the man she had hired to finish the job, one who had successfully completed many 'jobs' before, intercepted her on the border of Derbyshire.

Having felt incredibly happy with herself now that Mr. Darcy could once again desire the company of Maria Lucas, she had been infuriated to learn that the man she had hired, a one Samuel Elisha James O'Connell Ackley, or just Elisha O'Connell, had failed. Elisha had met with her husband, as a male figure was of a more believable attitude, while she stood off to the side, unbeknownst to him. When he informed her husband of his failure, the knife she kept on her when she roamed the impoverished areas of London seemed to act of its own accord. Later she could not recall what had compelled her to act in such a vicious way. Indeed, her husband had been shocked to such an extent that she had no choice but to urge him away, leaving Elisha O'Connell, the rich man reduced to rags, who had suffered the pains of lost love, to slowly bleed to death in the shadows.

Then, to hear Mrs. Bennet's news of Elizabeth's recovery time at Pemberley! With Mr. Darcy! Maria, who had believed her mother to expect an offer from the gentleman at any time, had looked at her in confusion across the room. She once more put plans to motion, only to have the servant girl at Pemberly to fail in administering the correct dosage of her preferred poison.

But at last, even though Elizabeth Bennet had somehow bewitched Mr. Darcy into making her an offer, the young woman was dead, the man name Andrew assuring her she was buried deep in the woods. She would allow Mr. Darcy the proper grieving time for his dead fiancé, but fully expected an offer to Maria quite soon.

Yes, for the first time in months, Lady Lucas rather enjoyed the company of Mrs. Bennet.

())}-%-

Four Days. It had been four days since the sudden and tragic disappearance of Mr. Darcy's fiancé, and the trial was evident on his person. He had not much bothered with sleep, and even when it did grace him with its presence, it was fitful and barely restful, filled with the images he dared not allow his waking mind to imagine. His eyes were shadowed by dark circles, and he had only shaved once in the time span, resulting in a rather stubbly beard that was itchy, but he had neither the time nor patience to be rid of it. He indeed looked like an entirely different man, and was not recognized in the streets of London beside his curiously dressed Uncle, who had insisted in assisting in case his medical talents were needed—a thought that was less then appealing to any of them. Also among their party were Mr. Bingley, Mr. Gardiner, and Mr. Bennet, the latter of whom had remained in Hertfordshire to guide the search parties there.

It was an experience he had never imagined to have. His heart was in pieces, and he refused to accept the possibility that she might be—

No, it could not be though of.

Their only hope in locating Elizabeth was a rumor passing amongst the rich and the poor alike that there was a couple, man and wife, who disposed of unwanted persons for the wealthy, employing the poor to do the work. It was his best hope, yet no one willing to admit to the knowledge of such people knew how to go about contacting them.

Darcy put all his time and energy into finding her.

He had to find her.

He must.

-%-{(()

Felicity sat beside the grievously ill Elizabeth with a book propped in her lap, reading by the light of about fifteen candles placed strategically about the room. It was a medical book she had started reading only three days before the rather surprising arrival of her father and his unwilling guest.

Her eyes moved rapidly about the page, drinking in words that were supposedly beyond her age comprehension; but with so little in the way of entertainment growing up, she had endeavored to take her education into her own hands. Felicity was an accomplished reader and scholar, and soon found what she had been looking for.

She read of how there was little known in the way of infections, except for it being believed that the pus formed in the wounds was of a healing nature*. She snorted a bit skeptically, thinking that anything that came out of the wound was probably better left that way. She was rather more willing to accept the teachings of ancient Greek Hippocrates, who used vinegar to clean and irrigate the wounds. She further researched the proper way to dress the wounds, and then, putting her red locks up, went on to act on her learnings.

Knowing that the woman was too ill to mind much, she locked the door and exposed the wound just under her left breast, grimacing at the angry color and various substances escaping it. She put a generous amount of the vinegar she had stolen from the kitchens on a piece of clean cloth and set about cleaning the room. Then she took the whole vial and poured a small amount into the wound itself.

It took much effort to dress the wound, but was rather proud of herself. Felicity unpinned her curls, letting them flood down her back once more as she preferred it. She took up her spot beside the woman, continuing her previous work of cooling her skin with a cool, wet cloth.

**Well, I feel this chapter may have answered many of your questions. Some people have guessed correctly, and I have recently been wishing I could take it in a different direction then of the Lucas's being the guilty party, but I was already to deep in the story line to really do anything about it. Thoughts? Telling Lady Lucas's story was actually rather tedious for me, but I resigned myself to the task, and hope it does the story in my mind justice. **

**Also, did I mislead any of you with the title? If you do not know, Felicity means a feeling of great happiness, and I titled the chapter like this to get people's hopes up that all was resolved in this chapter. **

**Also, if you note the *, I got this information here: ****.com/article/188988-overview****. If you're interested in stuff like this as I am, I'd say you should read it. It's the history of wound infections! Riveting! Lol. The pictures may or may not be disturbing.**

**I finished one of the two books I got for my birthday today (Mr. Darcy's story, and Mr. Darcy Takes a Wife.) Mr. Darcy's story is worth the read, though not as descriptive as I might have hoped. I start my other one tomorrow, and might just neglect this story until its done. We shall have to see. =]**

**I'm done talking for now. This chapter was crammed with info, so I'd love to know how it is received! =D**


	20. Poking and Prodding

**Ugh. I apologize for all the errors in the pervious chapter. I wrote it very late at night when I was too exhausted to sleep, if that makes any sense to you all. Once the story is done, I think I'm going to go back through all my chapters and edit them, since I don't have someone to do it for me. **

**From the reviews I have gathered that some people like the idea of the Lucas's being the villains, and some find it hard to believe, but that my back story helped make it more believable. I've always had this mental image of Lady Lucas being rather like a bird of prey, and Sir William being unable to care about much of anything but personal indulgences ('hey, I've been presented at St. James's court! I'm so amazing!') I would've gone with Lady Catherine, but unless she somehow overhead Darcy's proposal at Hunsford, (which I obviously could have fabricated I guess) she would really have no reason to want Lizzie dead. **

**But anyways, I had a question in the reviews what the song I quoted was in chapter 9. It's fool by lifehouse. Its really worth listening to, since I obviously feel it relates closely to Darcy**

**I'm sorry for the long wait for an update. As it is I've been struggling with myself to figure out what it is I want from this chapter, and my writers block seems to be persevering to be back into my life. But I'm fighting hard! And I'm sorry if it will seem too… soon for you guys, but I'm going to try and wrap this story up in the next week or so, so I'm not worried about it during the semester. I say try, because if I don't feel it will be right to end it too soon, I wont. But I want it to be done. **

**Oh, I finally finished 'Mr. Darcy takes a wife' yesterday. It was a very good book, very sexy ;) there was also a lot of angst, and Mr. Darcy was portrayed a bit more… stiff? (I cant really find a good adjective, so I hope you know what I mean) than I imagined, but all in all, it was pretty good, and I look forward to reading the sequal.**

**Once again, my mouth (via keyboard) has run away with me. So here we go:**

_Poking and Prodding_

Edward Vernor stood with his hands behind his back, looking out the window of his real home (as opposed to the one he more frequently haunted, the one with his daughter and Harriet) to the London streets without really seeing. He was wondering to himself how his life had become thus. Was it when he married the wrong woman, and found the right one not a week later? Or was it fathering a bastard child he was determined to provide for? Had his life always been headed in this direction? They were questions he knew not the answers to, and wasn't sure he wanted any.

He was quite proud of his daughter in many ways. For despite her current state of impoverishment, she was bright, intelligent and eloquent. There were no traces of the harsh accent that was common in this part of London. Her crimson hair was a sight he had never seen before laying eyes on her, and he wondered from which person, her mother or father, she had inherited it from. He also wondered from whom she received her intelligence.

Edward sighed and shook his head in amazement. Not four days ago he had been seriously concerned for the turn at which the young Miss Bennet's health had taken. However, when he returned to learn of her condition three days ago, he found her bandaged, the wound no longer oozing ghastly colored substances, and with only a mild fever. As of the current time, Elizabeth Bennet had yet to awaken. Fevers of high temperatures are known to cause brain damage, and he hoped the beautiful woman had not been tortured as such. He hoped she was just refusing to wake up.

He didn't know how long he had been looking out the window, but something had finally caught his attention that was not inside his own head. A man on a rather fat, old horse was galloping (more like a fast waddle) up the lane to his home. He recognized this man immediately, and in a rather ungentlemanly manner, he quit the room hurriedly, skipping a couple steps on his way down the stairs, and opened the door to greet him.

"Hello Andrew," Edward said, trying to keep the confusion and distaste out of his words. He quickly shut the door behind him, so that the man understood he was not to be let inside. "I thought I told you not to call on me here?"

The man made a gruff noise of distaste. "Aye came ta ask ya if tha' girl is dead yet."

Edward Vernor was immediately put on his guard. "Did Lady Lucas not believe you that she was?" He inquired, and Andrew automatically crossed his arms in front of him.

"Imma better liar then tha'" He drawled, rolling his eyes a bit. "Her pops offerin' a hansome reward for her, an' I want it."

"How much?"

"Two thousand."

He knew that Mr. Bennet had not the means to offer such a nice reward, and so it must be her betrothed who was behind it all. That was a scary prospect, Mr. Darcy of Pemberly looking for her. A man of that status was certain to challenge him to a duel, and where was he to find a sword? He didn't even know how to handle a sword!

And so, Edward found himself struggling to overcome a particularly vicious attack of anxiety, for there was nothing he was scared of more then powerful men and incarceration. However, he struggled to remain composed when he told the man, Andrew, that Miss Elizabeth was in no shape to be moved due to the wound he inflicted, and should he even try to present her to Mr. Darcy in her current state, he would have to explain how she got there. The outcome for him would surely not be a pleasant one.

He had the pleasure of watching Andrew's eyes grow round, and having no more reason to be at Edward Vernor's home (They quite obviously did not like each other) Quickly made his retreat.

However, Edward did not return to the house. He opened the door and, upon espying a maid, bid her to carry the message to his wife that he needed to go somewhere on a matter of business, and would return post-haste. He often wondered if his wife suspected where he truly was most of the time, but tried not to think about it.

())}-%-

Lizzie had the strangest dreams. She dreamed of forests that were drained of color from her unusually short vantage point, the leaves unusually still. She would hear the sound of boots stepping on leaves, and looked up, up at the face of her fiancé Mr. Darcy, who looked at her sadly. When he extended an arm to her, she could not reach it, and when he gave up on her and left, the pain in her heart was excruciating.

Enough to make her heart bleed all over her white linen dress. Nothing so fine as what she would wear once she became Mistress of Pemberly, but it was comfortable, and she was therefore sad to see such an ugly stain blossom over her bosom. It was painful, but the physical pain was vastly overshadowed by that of emotional. At least she thought so.

The trees would catch fire, but would only come close enough to make her uncomfortable to the extreme, but never burn her. Her skin became red with warmth, and she perspired in an un-ladylike fashion. Her eyes were heavy and sore, and she kept them closed as much as she could. When they were closed, the roaring fire seemed to become mute in the darkness of her lids, and instead she would hear a sweet melody hummed from somewhere near by. She would open her eyes to look for the source, but the melody would stop, replaced once more by crackling flames, crunching leaves and the eerie silence of the trees that seemed louder then anything else.

Eventually she kept her eyes closed, for even though she could still feel the flames close by, she did not need to see or hear them. She wished them gone, and eventually they seemed to retreat, the heat only close enough to make her sweat, but not too much. The pain in her heart never left, although she liked to think it dulled a fraction.

Eventually she worked up the courage to open her eyes once more, and she was greeted by the sight of familiar dinginess and reality. It was then that she realized her muscles ached, like she'd been lying stiff for a very long amount of time. The over all depressing air to the room, and her physical pain being joined by muscle cramps made her seek the comfort of unconsciousness once more. Something told her the room held no happiness or reassurance.

With her eyes closed from reality, the melody would come back eventually, then when the song was over, it would leave for a time, and she would ponder the things that were most dear to her. Jane's face appeared to her many times, and she wondered what her sister was doing, and when, in fact, was the last time she had seen her. Another face she struggled to recall was Mr. Darcy. He was certainly wondering where she was. How long _had _it been? Was she to miss her own wedding? Lizzie silently chastised herself.

She concentrated on him though, because thinking of him was the only way she could feel better about herself. Though she couldn't recall why she was so depressed.

The melody was back, and so she focused on that once more, happy to not be pondering things she couldn't remember.

-%-{(()

Edward walked into the room that Elizabeth Bennet was resting in. They had moved her onto the cot in the corner, though he realized she was probably no better off then she had been on the table. Felicity was there, checking the wound site and humming to herself; it was an old irish hymn her mother sang to her when she was younger, once that was a source of comfort.

"_Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise:_

_Thou mine inheritance now and always;_

_Thou and thou only first in my heart;_

_High King of Heaven, my treasure thou art._

_High King of heaven, my victory won,_

_May I reach heaven's joys, O Bright Heaven's sun!;_

_Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,_

_Still be my vision, O Ruler of all."_

He smiled indulgently, noting that his daughter would have made a fantastic wife, if she could find a husband when she was of age. But since she had no fortune and was born out of wedlock, she was probably not going to have much luck.

Crossing the room, he leaned down to place a kiss on Felicity's cheek. She looked up at him with a smile as he rested a hand on her shoulder. "How is she?" he asked quietly, and Felicity shrugged.

"Her wound has begun to slowly repair itself, and she suffers no longer from fever…." She trailed off, her words holding traces of concern, and he squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, before leaving momentarily to find a chair to pull up beside her.

Slowly, he said, "I want your opinion on something Felicity," gaining her full attention. "Miss Elizabeth's betrothed offers a money prize for her return. He is a powerful man and I have no doubt that he will find us out eventually… but Lady Lucas is just as powerful, and I fear…. She has been known to-_dispose_-of people who displease her." He let out a gust of breath, rubbing his temples in confusion.

His daughter was silent for many minutes. Then she turned her body to face him completely, brushing a stand of hair out of her face. "I think, father, you are blinded by fear." She began with a small smile. "The situation can be resolved simply, and if all goes well, you will have the powerful mans sympathy, therefore his money." Her smile disappeared momentarily. "And I believe Elizabeth should see a real doctor. I cannot see how much more I could do."

())}-%-

Darcy tipped back his fifth glass of scotch, downing the last half of it in one gulp. He sat in his father's armchair, staring into the fire located in the library of his home in London. A week had passed since the news of Elizabeth's disappearance. One hundred, sixty eight hours where anything could have happened to her. Ten thousand eighty minutes where she could have found herself that much farther away from him.

His thoughts had, after days of tirelessly searching, arrived at the practical, inevitable, and extremely horrifying possibilities. That she could may in fact be dead was not a fact lost to him, be he told himself even fate wasn't that cruel. If it had denied him love for the past eight and twenty years of his life, it wasn't about to be snatched away when it had barely begun. But there was also the possibility that she was on her way with unknown persons to the continent, or even possibly the Americas. He shuddered to think of her so far away from him, and so leaned forward and placed his face in his hands.

His body did not hold such excessive amounts of alcohol well, since he only drank socially and even then no more then a glass maybe two, but his body thankfully handled the drink in a dignified manner. The frequent trips to the water closet where a hindrance, but it had left his body dehydrated, and so unable to shed tears if it had wanted to; indeed, his body felt as if crying would be a very welcome release.

Darcy was appalled at his recent un-masculine responses. However, he had not the time to ponder the recent reason, for the sanctuary of that library had, at that moment, been invaded.

"Darcy!" Colonel Fitzwilliam cried a bit breathlessly (Richard had joined their search party but the day before). Attention captured, Darcy slowly raised his head to meet the carefully optimistic look on his cousin's face. He merely raised an eyebrow, having been repeatedly let down by reported leads the past few days.

His eyes returned to the fire, waiting to hear what ever it was Richard had to say, when he remembered the reason he was in here in the first place. The letter that was long since burned away had done nothing to lift his spirits. In fact it had given him a rather grievous task once (he refused to think 'if') he found Elizabeth. The letter had come from Mr. Bingley, who had returned to Hertfordshire to help the search there. It stated that Mr. Bennet had quite suddenly fallen ill with the flu. If that family needed any type of good luck, it was now. With a daughter missing, the house had been in an uproar. He inwardly flinched to think of what Mrs. Bennet was saying in her loud, annoying way about their circumstances should her husband pass. He would of course be obliged to take care of Lizzie's mother and sisters until they were married or dead (in Mrs. Bennet's case). He would do it for her, but refused to have Mrs. Bennet within fifty miles of Pemberly.

He was pushed rather roughly, and he looked up at his cousin again, who had an eyebrow peaked. "I say Darcy," he mumbled, taking the empty glass from Darcy's hand and placing it well out of reach. "There's a man here who claims to have Miss Elizabeth in his care."

The words slowly sank in, one by one. Then Darcy's face drained of blood rather rapidly, but regained its color with anger. It would have been an amusing sight to see under different circumstances. He stood so quickly Richard took a couple steps back in surprise.

"Where is he!" Darcy cried (probably better described as a yell, due to mild intoxication), already striding to the door.

())}-%-

The furnishings of the room were much more lavish then he could ever account for seeing, but that was not what was most forefront in Edwards mind at the moment. It was the angry yell that had come from the top of the stairs a few moments after the Colonel had left.

He sincerely hoped his daughter was right that this was the right thing to do. He would never admit to anyone he took a twelve year old girl's thoughts into consideration, let alone that he followed her advice. But here he sat, having believed not fifteen minutes ago that this was the right thing to do. Now he wasn't so sure.

His acceptance into the house at such a late hour was not happily done by the old, stern looking butler. He was immediately led into a parlor, where there sat two gentleman. Both were handsome but had no resemblance what so ever, the one on the left in shocking Indian attire was obviously older, though how much older was unapparent. He was quite youthful. He introduced himself, learning that the older man was Doctor George Darcy, apparently a relation of Miss Elizabeth Bennet's fiancé, and the other was Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam of the British Calvary. They had stood in relative silence for a few moment, before George Darcy had said rather impatiently and unceremoniously, "Well, get on with it!"

He blundered though his well rehearsed explanation, but feared he only got across the point that he had Elizabeth Bennet in his care. The Colonel had jumped up and quit the room immediately. George Darcy's eyebrows had pinched together as he eyed Edward peculiarly.

"Is she well?" He asked after a long uncomfortable silence.

He fought the instinct to lie and said, "I-I fear greatly for her sir. She has not opened her eyes these f-five days." The man leaned back, placing his hands together in front of him and tapping his lips looking extremely concerned. More silence stretched on until the angry shout had occurred, and there was the sound of someone walking very quickly about the second floor and down the stairs.

A man of extreme height and considerable strength burst through the door, pausing only long enough for Edward to realize that this was the rich and powerful Mr. Darcy of Pemberley. His countenance was one of such anger, that Colonel Fitzwilliam did not hesitate in placing a restraining hand on Mr. Darcy's shoulder, though it would not have made much difference if Mr. Darcy was extremely set on attacking Edward Verner, he seemed to remember himself.

"Explain yourself," He said with such authority he wouldn't have denied him even if the thought had crossed his mind. So he told the whole sorry tale of how he had been hired to lead a team of six men including himself to capture and kill Miss Elizabeth Bennet. At the word kill, Darcy had visibly flinched, but other then that he kept his mask of barely contained anger and desperation upon his face. Telling this man that another had stabbed her was the hardest thing he thought he'd ever had to say. He left out no detail though, assuming correctly that the doctor was already forming his own conclusions on how severe the impalement was, and what to do about it. Darcy's face became redder and redder.

The last few days were uneventful, and he had thus summed them up in but a few sentences. "My daughter, Felicity, has been keeping watch over her in a most devoted way. She discovered what to do for the wound which is now healing. Though she heals, she has not waken since I first brought her to my home."

There was that bloody silence again.

"Did you not think to return her home!" Darcy cried beyond reason. "To return her to those who love her and could provide more adequeitly for here then a girl of a mere—"

"Twelve," Edward supplied smally.

"_Twelve!" _Darcy roared, and the Colonel was once again required to say something of a more rational nature for his relation's benefit.

"Calm down Darcy. All this yelling is doing us no good. At least we know where miss Elizabeth is, and we can see her home safely," This reminder of what they were really here discussing brought Darcy up short. The anger disappeared from his face, and tired relief was all that was left.

"Yes… Yes you are right Richard." He turned to Edward Verner looking stern. "Your choices in this matter were foolhardy, and I will not even begin to start on your choice of… profession." His lip curled a bit at the word, making Edward flinch in shame. "I cannot, however, deny that you have acted for Elizabeth's benefit and for that I thank you."

The words were spoken reluctantly, and Edward realized what a struggle they had been for the man. He nodded in acceptance when George Darcy inquired—"Pray, who hired you?"

He swallowed rather harshly. "Lady Lucas."

Silence was, indeed, a repetitious occurrence this night.

-%-{(()

All this prodding was begging to be quite annoying, Lizzie thought to herself, wishing the melody would return so she could find that resemblance of peace once more. However, the prodding was very insistent, and she felt as if someone was trying to make her open her eyes. Weather she was to be greeted by the flames and the trees, or by the sad little room, she cared not. For neither were particularly appealing, and so she stuck to the firm belief that blindness was best in this situation.

Still, the poking and pinching were becoming far too substantial for her to ignore, and it was when someone had forced cold water down her throat that everything returned to her memory.

The area of her knife wound was the place she was being prodded. The pain of that action also returned to her conciousness, and she realized that whatever had been going on in her mind the past few hours (days?) had not been real. This was real, and it hurt.

The water was pooling in the back of her throat, and so she had no choice but to swallow or drown. The action burned as her parched throat attempted to work the liquid down.

"Good, that's good," She heard someone mumble. Familiar, but she couldn't match a face or name to the voice. Someone else was brushing the hair off of her sweaty forehead tenderly, and a few moments later, more water came.

This time after swallowing, she opened her eyes.

Vision blurry for the most part, she didn't understand where she was at first. However, when the first thing she saw was the beautiful, inquisitive face of the young girl with fiery hair, she remembered. The girl met her gaze and smiled happily at Lizzie. She would have smiled back if she thought she could.

"Sir…." The girl, Felicity her name was, said quietly, and she pointed at Lizzie. That was when she realized there were two other people in the room, who were very close to her. The first, the source of the voice and all this prodding was looking at her in evident relief, but it was the man who stood over her, who had been giving her water and brushing back her hair, that stole her attention.

"Lizzie…" He said a bit breathlessly, looking as if he could not believe his eyes. Her throat was dry yet to be talking, but she hoped he understood how happy she was to see him by what little expression her facial muscles could work up.

Softly, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. It was an upside down kiss, due to where he stood at the head of her makeshift bed, but she momentarily forgot all about the pain in her chest. He had found her, as she would have believed of him if she hadn't been unconscious this whole time without the space in her mind to think it.

"Give her more water William," George Darcy commanded, and this time she took the water thankfully. "Drink slowly Elizabeth," he mumbled without actually looking at her. She was suddenly aware of his actions as he pulled a needle and thread up, tied a knot and cut it with a dull pair of scissors. He was giving her stitches, but she immediately blushed at the thought of so much of her skin, on an indecent part of her body, being exposed to the room.

George glanced over his shoulder and started talking quietly to Felicity, who had begun to creep up and watch his work. Uninterested, Elizabeth looked up at Darcy, happy to see his gaze had not left her. She was tired, but knew that when she next closed her eyes it would be sleep that over came her, not unconsciousness.

He was so over come with relief that he hadn't even bothered with applying his mask of indifference. Running the back of his fingers across her cheeks he whispered, so quietly that she wasn't even sure she heard him right, "I love you Lizzie,"

**Theres such a great feeling at completing a chapter. Mainly relief, but the boost to self confidence is pretty cool. =] Next chapter: Confronting Lady Lucas! Writing this chapter, or the other ones for that matter, instead of writing Lady Lucas I would always type Lady Catherine, so if I missed one, sorry for the confusion. **

**I hope this chapter was less riddled with grammar and typing errors then the previous one. I've never been a good speller, or had a good grasp on punctuation and the finer aspects of writing, but as long as I've strung the words together correctly, I'm happy with it. And I hope you all are as well **

**The Irish hymn is called 'Be thou my vision.' I'm Irish so I can appreciate it, though I'm not exactly highly religious, people of this time were. I found it fitting for a girl of red hair to be singing an old Irish song. Its very pretty if you youtube it. **

**I'm not sure why I named the chapter this. I usually go with something that will either throw someone off track, or is the main theme. 'Poking and Prodding' Just kind of had a lasting impression on me. **

**~~~~~ I've already had to reuplod this doc. 3 times. I should probably re-read these before I upload them huh? **his H


	21. Secret Pleasures

**First I want to offer my apologies for such a long wait for this chapter. I regret to tell you that there might be a long space between this one and the next, but a four day weekend does tend to come in handy, and I've long been thinking about updating this chapter so here it is. I warned everyone that my year was about to get really busy, but even I couldn't have dreamed it would be like this. Once my sports season is over, I'm hoping I can dedicate more time to other hobbies, such as this story, but for now I will get to it whenever I have time.**

**I hope I haven't lost too many readers ='[ An odd thing happened to me, I've picked up an odd obsession with star wars, but not all that struggle between the dark and light crap. I think the love story between Anikan and Padmé is so beautiful, and I was thinking about writing a short one shot about that. So if you like Star Wars look out for that in the next couple days/weeks.**

**I'll start this chapter out with lyrics to the song Danny Boy. There's a story behind this too. This year I have a new orchestra teacher and she wants us to play Danny Boy to show our audience our capabilities with expressing feeling through music. She told us that to accomplish that, we have to look up the lyrics and think of a story behind it, and turn it in. a lot of people were just like 'A man and women are in love, but she's dying of cancer.' A lot of one worded crap. Of course I went home and typed up three pages about a british revolutionary war officer leaving his pregnant bride behind, very sad. But it also reminded me of this story, so here it is, Chapter 20 of Come Find Me (finally)**

**(This chapter has a violent scene in it. If it disturbs anyone, I'm sorry.)**

_Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling_

_From glen to glen, and down the mountain side_

_The summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying_

_'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide._

_But come ye back when summer's in the meadow_

_Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow_

_'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow_

_Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so._

_And if you come, when all the flowers are dying_

_And I am dead, as dead I well may be_

_You'll come and find the place where I am lying_

_And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me._

_And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me_

_And all my dreams will warm and sweeter be_

_If you'll not fail to tell me that you love me_

_I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me._

_I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me. _

**Secret Pleasures**

The elegantly dressed man never left Miss Elizabeth's side, and it irked Felicity. She was extremely curious about her patient and had a lot of questions she wanted answered now that she was conscious sometimes.

The doctor, also very tastefully dressed, had applauded her with the treatment she had provided against the infection that had set into the woman's injury. She watched intensely as he used strong thread to sew up her wound and urged the other man, William he had called him, to keep giving her water, as much as she could stand without feeling nauseous.

When Elizabeth had fallen asleep the man called William still did not move, never taking his eyes off of her face. Maybe that was because the majority of this woman's stomach was uncovered for all to see, besides her most intimate places on her chest. Or maybe he didn't care about the skin that was exposed, but preferred to never look away from her face in fear that if he did, she would vanish.

The doctor removed from a bag a jar with a pasty green substance in it. He called it a weird name and told the unresponsive William that he had brought it from India.

_India. _This man had been to India! Felicity was jolted out of her musings about the man named William to ask the doctor about the fascinating and strange place she had read about in her books.

With the chatter of the girl and George quietly in the background, Mr. Darcy started to regain some of his composure. The mere sight of Elizabeth in this place, unconscious, battered and pale had been his breaking point. Something inside him shattered, and he would have been ashamed of his actions thenceforth, actions that did not uphold the image Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberly, descendant of the ancient houses of Matlock and D'Arcy. He did not care much for anything but seeing Elizabeth's beautiful brown eyes opened, to see the mirth in them as she laughed. Those eyes which were the very first things to peak his interest in her, the way they looked at him as if she held a very dear secret she was just daring him to discover.

When finally, after just over twelve hours after their arrival, she had awaken, he could have cried with joy. Her tryst with consciousness was brief, and he was soon becoming cramped in his current position of kneeling. Even the eager questions of the young and surprisingly intelligent girl named Felicity had died down and she had moved across the room to an uncomfortable chair looking in desperate need of repair to curl up in a seemingly impossible small ball to fall asleep. He looked up at his uncle who was rubbing his eyes from exhaustion, and it was then that Mr. Darcy realized how tired he himself was. The desperate search of the past days had finally caught up to him.

"Is it safe to move her uncle?" Darcy asked, breaking the silence. In the window, the sun was just starting to touch the cobblestones of the dingy street outside.

George nodded slowly, but took a few moments to answer verbally. "There isn't much more I can do for her here. It would be much more beneficial to her recovery to be somewhere warm and comfortable. I believe that, as long as we are careful not to jostle her too much, she should be fine until we reach your townhouse.

"Will you call for the carriage?" Darcy asked, but it sounded like more of a demand. George Darcy usually would have laughed at his nephew's tone and told him to be more respectful of his elders but regognizing the precarious emotional condition of William, he decided to comply silently.

The candlelight flickered against the walls even though they were not necessarily needed for vision any more. Stroking Elizabeth's hair softly, he looked at the girl and had to admit that if it were not for her, his betrothed probably would not have survived, a painful thought that he quickly tucked aside into the dark corners of his mind. She was alive now, which was all that mattered.

He did want to express his gratitude to the girl, and wondered what could possibly be done to help her. However his thoughts were broken by the appearance of George and Mr. Vernor.

"The carriage is ready," his uncle stated, and Darcy stood, feeling his knees strain from not being used.

"I will carry her," Darcy said bluntly, not trusting her safety to anyone else, he dared not. He stepped around the table she laid upon and very carefully slipped his arms under her to pick her up. He exited the room with the two other men following silently, leaving the girl Felicity to her sleep in peace.

As Darcy entered the carriage, he felt the weight of grief leave his shoulders. She was finally safe, and he had her in his arms as evidence. However the Grief was replaced by a smoldering, slowly rising feeling of anger. She may be safe for the moment, but if he was to ensure her future safety, he had matters to deal with.

())}-%-

"I hope you are happy Lady Lucas," Sir William Lucas said from a drunken rage. Since the news of Elizabeth Bennet's disappearance, he had taken to drinking away his guilt. Currently he was stumbling through the parlor to his wife. She snapped her head towards him with a visicious smile about her face. Not even her husbands drinking could make her angry. A proposal was sure to come from Mr. Darcy for Maria soon enough, after the appropriate mourning period was over, and maybe even before that. Her daughter was to have everything she deserved, and the annoying Elizabeth Bennet was dead. Nothing could have made her happier.

"Why I am extremely happy Sir William, I thank you for your concern," she replied, and laughing maniacally a bit. "Why shouldn't I be?"

"Wench!" he cried. He continued to call her numerous names that were not fit for repeating, and once his anger had turned his words to unintelligible grumbling, she stood with a pin strait back, walked to her husband and slapped him sharply about the face.

His face was frozen in shock as his wife hissed through her teeth, "Do you want the staff to hear you? You could destroy our lives in one second if you are not careful!"

Sir William started to laugh. It was a humorless laugh that would have chilled anyone to the bone except for his wife, who was unaffected. He moved the glass of brandy in his hand to his mouth to down the last of it, and she wondered vaguely just how much he had consumed this night. If she remembered correctly, his first drink had been hours ago. The glass slipped from his uncoordinated grasp, and maybe it was the feeling that he needed something in his hand or it was just drunken rage. Maybe he didn't need to be drunk to want to murder his wife in cold blood, but only needed the alcohol to dull his senses enough for him to act on it. Whatever the case, the hand that had previously been holding the glass fumbled for her throat, but once he had hold, there was no letting go.

"You have ruined _everything!" _He roared, watching her face turn red. The sight didn't really give him pleasure, he wasn't a naturally violent man. But somehow the thought had been planted into his head that if his wife were gone, everything would be right once again. Perhaps he could even remarry. Miss. Mary Bennet was young, but he found he enjoyed her company very much and besides, older men have been known to marry even younger women. Mary Bennet would be happy to receive an offer from a man of his title.

Lady Lucas struggled in vain to escape her husband's grip. She was making small noises of desperation, but no air was passing into her lungs. "Elizabeth Bennet did not deserve to die! None of those people deserved to die!" And with one final squeeze, the life quickly drained from his wife. She went limp and he let go, watching her body fall to the ground with a dull thud.

He looked over quickly when he heard a door or floor board squeak. His eyes met with the face of his youngest daughter Maria, who could not tear her own eyes from her dead mother on the floor.

Sir William Lucas suddenly felt very, very sober when he realized what he had just done.

-%-{(()

The news of the murder of Lady Lucas by her own husband spread like wildfire to London where, just days after the retrieval of Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy heard the news for the first time.

He was very shocked to say the least, and he wondered about the kind of family they were. He considered questioning Sir William himself. If Lady Lucas was the sort of women he believed her to have been, he could not completely blame the man. But that was a thought he would only share with himself, and no one else.

Darcy had made the decision long ago not to inform Elizabeth that it was the Lucas's who had wanted her dead. He knew she was close friends with Charlotte Collins nee Lucas, and didn't want that experience on top of everything else.

He remembered with incredible clarity the events of the first night of her stay at the Darcy townhouse. She had awakened not long after they arrived with a gut wrenching scream of pain. She had apparently attempted to sit up, unable to recall right away what her condition was. Of course, it all came back to her immediately, but Darcy had thought the worst and ran into the room without even attempting to abide by propriety.

Now he sat at the desk in the sitting room connected to her bed chamber, the door separating them slightly ajar while she rested. It was most definitely not proper, but his staff were sworn to secrecy, and his uncle most certainly did not care. After living in India, the restrictions of the civilized world seemed for the most part unnecessary to him anyway.

He sighed at the letter from Mr. Bennet that was a response from his own giving the good news of Elizabeth's survival. He still was in a precarious health condition, and it was evident in his had writing. But he still managed to convey his happiness at the survival of his favorite daughter. It was a second letter from Mr. Bingley that had informed him of Lady Lucas's death.

Dealing with Lady Lucas had been a topic he had known he had debated about since he learned of her hand in all that had transpired against Elizabeth. However the decision on how to proceed with the knowledge he had was taken out of his hands, and maybe that was best. He wasn't sure his anger would have ended with a different result either way, a fact he accepted but was ashamed of never the less.

As he sat in the candle light composing a letter back to Charles, when he heard the noises of the bed shifting from the other room; he paused, his impeccable posture suddenly stiff as he listened intensely for signs that Elizabeth was awake. He was afraid that she would wake up and realize the incredible wrongness of him spending time in her personal chambers while she was unaware of it.

The sound of movement paused, then picked up again and he thought he heard a slight groan. He was tempted to go to her, but did not want to shock her. Despite everything they had been through together, and the obviously love he felt for her and he hoped she felt for him, there were still barriers, and currently he was breaking a big one.

So he stayed at that desk, fighting between wanting to go to her and see if he could help with anything and remaining where he was. His uncle had warned him that it would be a painful recovery process, and needed constant supervision. Well after the last disaster with the staff that caused her to almost get killed _then _he didn't want to trust her to a servant. His cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam was reliable, but something in him couldn't trust her to anyone else.

So he just listened. The bed stopped making the tell-tale sounds of movement, but instead the floor boards began to creak slowly. He jumped up incredulously. She wasn't supposed to be walking!

"Elizabeth?" He called cautiously. This was dangerous territory.

The movement continued, until the door opened all the way to reveal Elizabeth in her dressing gown looking for all the world confused. "William?" She asked, not even caring that she was inappropriately dressed. He couldn't even think about how she was dressed. Those kinds of thoughts were far from mind for the moment when her health and well-being were in jeopardy.

"You aren't supposed to be walking Elizabeth," he said gently, taking a cautious step towards her, prepared to catch her if weakness suddenly took its hold.

Her eyes scanned the room, and her breathing starting to become more rapid. "Where am I?" she asked, her eyes wide, and she started to shake.

"You are safe Elizabeth," he said gently. "Safe at my home in London. That's all that matters,"

Her breathing was becoming more and more hitched and suddenly she gasped in pain and placed a hand over her wound. She looked down, looking lost, and suddenly comprehension lit up her eyes. "Oh… oh," was all she could say, and she looked up at him with a heart breaking expression, and she started to shake. To really shake with visible tremors and her eyes filled with tears but she furiously blinked them away as if she was ashamed of them. His Lizzie… always resilient and stubborn.

Everything that had happened to her was just being realized by her, and he took a few steps closer, damning the rules that prevented him from comforting her in the way he wished he could. Elizabeth, however, seemed to not care. She closed the last few steps between them shakily and flung her arms around his neck, and he instinctively wrapped his around her waist, supporting most of her weight. He merely held her until her shaking subsided, and then he continued to hold her, and he knew deep down that this comfort was as much for him as it was for her.

He could feel that she was growing weaker and as she became increasingly unable to support her own weight, he took on the burden himself. Eventually, he gently scooped her up into his arms and brought her back into her bedchamber and laid her down. He made to leave and let her rest, but she grabbed his hand was a surprisingly firm grip.

"Don't go," she whispered.

"Elizabeth…." He said longingly, wanting nothing more than to stay but he knew it was beyond wrong. "It is not proper," he said, but the explanation seemed weak even to his own ears.

"Who is to say it is wrong?" She asked, pulling on his hand to bring him closer. "There is no law against it, we will not be arrested, and even if people did find out, we would be told we have to marry, which we shall in any case."

There was logic to her words, and he found all the faith he had put into the norms of society breaking. He took a step closer to her, but did not know what to do with himself. He would be lying if he still believed he was going to leave. But was he merely going to stand here holding her hand for the rest of the night?

She kept pulling on his hand however, and his knees knocked against the bed when he realized her intention. "Elizabeth…" He said apprehensively and warningly. What if someone did find out?

"William," she replied, but it sounded like exasperation, and with her last reserves of strength, she gave an almighty tug to his arm. She had learned a valuable lesson the past few weeks. You never knew when God would take your life, so why not enjoy the moments you had available to you? It took all his effort not to land on her, and he had somehow maneuvered his body to land on the other side of her. His muscles locked down in the suddenly intimate position he was in. Elizabeth however, pulled the hand she still had a grasp on to rest on her stomach with hers on top. She breathed a sigh of contentment, and he was almost positive she fell instantly asleep.

Slowly, he relaxed, allowing himself this one moment to be with her. Thoughts of someone looking for him and finding him here left, and the dark cloud of sleep began its descent on his mind. Unknowingly, but none the less gently, he pulled Elizabeth closer into his chest, arms encircling her protectively. Here, no harm would come to her, here she was close to him as can be in such a situation, and nothing made him happier. Together they fell into the most peaceful sleep either of them could ever remember.

**Awww! Yeah, I know back then it never really would have happened, at least with people of their social stature, but its cute none the less. The scene with the Lucas's kinda disturbed me, I don't know what made me write it, but I did, and that's that. I'm curious about reactions to it, but I'm not going to change it. I couldn't really see Darcy taking time away from keeping a careful eye on Elizabeth to deal with the matter personally, so this was a way that all the burdens could be removed from his shoulders at once. **

**Again, sorry for the long wait. I hoped this chapter was enough to help hold interest until I can finally finish the story (and start a sequel? We shall see). **

**Thanks for the support and interest you all have put into this story!**

**~Kayleigh**


	22. Crescendo

**So I'm going to take some space to address some of the things in my reviews (which were amazing, love you guys for that 3 )**

**First off, I'm not quite sure what came over me when I wrote the scene concerning the Lucas's. That was a common theme that came up in the reviews, some people agreed with me that it was a good way to relieve Darcy of the stress, others were just okay with it. And the Mary thing—I honestly do not know what compelled me to write that. Keep in mind that I wrote that chapter late at night, and when I'm sleepy, I get a bit strange. **

**Brianna—Yes, I'm in orchestra. I play the violin too and I absolutely love it. I just got done practicing actually. Ever heard of the Bach double for violins? Its such a pretty song, but really hard to master. My quartet actually played Rondo by Henry Purcell for our concert last year. In case you didn't know, it's played in the dance scene between Darcy and Elizabeth in the 2005 movie. 3**

**Geril—I realize that in the space of time its been since I've updated you may have forgot some minor details, but no one hired the Lucas's. People would hire the Lucas's to do away with whomever they wanted gone, but Lady Lucas's brain was altered in fever and literally drove her insane—she used her business for her own purposes to do away with Elizabeth. It's confusing, I know. **

**Enleia—Darcy definitely beats Edward. Anyday. (I'm a twilight fan too, so this means quite a lot.)**

**So thank you all for the amazing reviews. I'm writing this little bit (and I do mean little) for you all before I go away with my team tomorrow (I'm currently waiting for my clothes to come out of the dryer—that always takes long and I have to stay awake so here I am, typing away)**

**So, Ladies and Gentlemen, Chapter 21:**

Crescendo

Maria's head was throbbing from the frantic pace the carriage was moving at, and the brief beams of sunlight that would make it through the curtains as they swayed back and forth. The pains in her head could have also been a result from not having slept well enough for the past three days. Whenever she closed her eyes, all she could see was her mother falling limply to the floor in the pile of shattered glass, both a result of her father's drunken rage.

She did not understand what he had been very verbosely saying about the death of Lizzie Bennet and other people. The disappearance of Lizzie had been very tragic indeed, but word spread quickly that her fiancé Mr. Darcy had rescued her from her captors.

Maria's brow creased when she thought of Mr. Darcy, the man all of Hertfordshire had immediately labeled as prideful and unsociable. Her mother had been positive for months that he was going to propose to her. When it was announced that he would be marrying Elizabeth Bennet, her mother had still been sure.

Her parents were never at home much, but Maria dearly loved them both. So when she had waken to the strange sound of her father's raised voice, she could not overcome her curiosity. It had been wrong, since it is not lady like to eavesdrop on the conversations of other people, at least not openly, and especially not conversations between one's parents. She realized now more then ever the importance of that lesson. If she had stayed in her room she would never have witnessed such a horror.

That night would forever be remembered as the worst in her life. Having heard Sir William's shouts, the staff, thinking there was trouble, came immediately. Two or three maids were the first to see Lady Lucas dead on the floor, another came up behind Maria who had been shaking so violently she was sure she would shatter into a million pieces.

She was led away to a room where she was served very strong wine, and a sympathetic young maid who had seen nothing of the spectacle sat with her for hours upon hours. She knew not what happened to her mother's body or her father. She still did not know, and was too afraid to ask someone in any case.

She remained awake the rest of that night, through the day and when she finally succumbed to sleep she woke not three hours later screaming from a dream she could not remember. Now Maria is scared to sleep.

The carriage jolted to a stop and Maria was forced to collect herself. Hastily wiping away her tears, the carriage door was opened by her brother in law, Mr. Collins.

"My dear Maria! Such terrible, terrible news. Why, Lady Catherine herself sends her sympathies and wonders how you will ever be raised properly now that you have no mother to guide you. Of course, my dear Charlotte and I are more than happy to…" Maria stopped listening to the boring man and locked eyes with the sister she had only departed from a month ago. Had her stay at Hunsford Park only been that long ago?

Charlotte had tears in her eyes, as did Maria. There was a moment, the only moment ever between them where they shared a look of understanding.

())}-%-

She was extremely warm. That was the first thing Elizabeth thought of when the grip of sleep began to wane. She felt safe and warm in a way that was completely unfamiliar to her, but she welcomed it. She snuggled in closer to the comfort and felt it wrap its arms around her more securely. She felt a stabbing pain momentarily in her chest, but it reduced to a dull throbbing sensation relatively quicky, a sensation easily ignored considering the circumstances.

She was not yet ready to open her eyes, but she could not stop awareness from creeping up on her, and as her mind cleared she realized there was the sensation of rising and falling against her back, a quiet soothing sound that slowly crescendoed then fell back down again. Her hair was down and falling across her face, and it smelled clean, like flowers.

This was the first realization that startled her, but she did not remember why immediately. She took a deep breath and moved a bit, but the warm protectiveness was wrapped across her stomach. It tightened again, and she dared not move even if she wanted to.

Lizzie lay like that for a while until she started to remember everything. Why her chest hurt, why the pain wasn't nearly as bad as it was before. How she came to be in this significantly comfortable bed, and she was almost positive a maid had washed her up to remove the evidence of the past… how long had it been?

But most of all, she remembered waking in the middle of the night alone in this spacious room with the door slightly ajar and the flickering light of a single candle shining though.

Curiously, and stubbornly ignoring the fact that each step she took was like fire in her breast, she stood and slowly made her way across the room to open the door.

He jumped up, looking concerned for her. All she could do was wonder where she was and how she got there. All she could remember was that she wasn't safe, that there was reason to be afraid and so she felt afraid. The pain in her chest was incredible mostly because her breathing was so rapid it was moving muscles that were better left alone to heal. Cautiously he approached her, assuring her that she was safe, and searching for the serenity and safety she needed to collect herself, she closed the distance between them desperately.

She marvled at how quickly her opinion of him had changed over the past month, at how hate can only be a façade for love, arrogance for shyness, and stubbornness for unsecurity. She learned a lot, including how quickly ones life can end.

The most incredible thing, however, was that she had brought him to her bed, and somehow convinced him to stay. Here she felt safest, it was his arms, she realized, that were holding her to him. His breathing was the rhythm she felt and heard.

She watched the sun slowly pass the horizon for a few moments when something changed. His breathing suddenly hitched and sped up, the arms around her tensed and she felt the bed shift slightly.

That moment was suspended in a way that made her feel slightly sick to her stomach. Did he regret it? She knew she should, that she should insist he leave her room and pretend that it never happened, but she was beyond that. She did not care about the rules that were dictated by social standards. She felt wanton and childish at the same time, and she loved it.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he started to move away from her. His arms snaked away and she realized he was trying to leave without waking her. She debated over her course of action for only a second.

Her hand moved to rest on top of one of his, then she entwined his fingers with hers. He stilled once more.

"Leaving so soon, Mr. Darcy?" she asked, but the voice did not sound like her own. It sounded hoarse and wispy. Lizzie suddenly realized how incredibly thirsty she was. However, she quickly forgot when her words had the opposite of her desired effect. Mr. Darcy withdrew immediately, and when she rolled over completely onto her back in response, she saw him sitting up and looking anywhere but at her.

The silence was stifling, then-

"Miss. Elizabeth I—I am terrible sorry. I beg your pardon, I—"

"Mr. Darcy it is nobody's fault but my own." She said coolly, angry at him for his disorienting revert back to formality. She was positive that were well beyond that by now.

He finally looked back at her when he detected her tone of voice. He seemed to be at a loss and Lizzie, feeling her pride surge up in defiance, made to stand up and excuse herself. But when she sat up to take her leave of the bed, her breath came out in a woosh and elicited a slight moan. Her stiff bandages she could feel now had tugged at her wound. She scrunched her eyes closed while she waited for the worst of the pain to leave, wondering what made her speak up in the first place. Her morning had started out perfectly and nearly pain free, but it had only lasted for a few short moments.

"Elizabeth, are you—"

"I am well as can be expected Mr. Darcy, I thank you." She said shortly, opening her eyes to glare at the opposite wall.

It was silent once more, then suddenly he took her hand and softly brushed his lips across it. "I am glad you are safe my Lizzie and—"He hesitated before adding, "thank you." As he looked at her she could not help but let the anger melt away as suddenly as it had appeared. "I must go for now, they will be looking for me soon." She did not ask whom he meant by 'they,' so she merely nodded. Hesitantly, he brought his hand up to cup her cheek, but did no more.

As he exited the room, Lizzie smiled happily to herself and—slowly this time—laid back down on the bed feeling very tired once more.

**Oh man, was that my dryer buzzing? I promised a short chapter, and this is what you got. 35 minutes of speed typing, so excuse my typos and grammatical errors and whatever else. I tried =] **


	23. The Reason Why

**A/N: I deserve a slap on the wrist, maybe quite a few. I don't really want to offer any explanations as to why I haven't updated in so long, I've given them all before and they haven't changed. But I do want to warn you all that I'll be finishing this story up really soon, and I'm sure you'll all get that vibe from this chapter. Just a little more drama (I cant really resist), but there's an obvious time gap between the last chapter and this one, so I hope I don't confuse anyone. I'm not quite sure why I titled this chapter 'The reason why,' but that's how it was in my first draft. **

**Anyways, this is my Christmas gift to you all, and I hope you enjoy it, and I apologize for the *blushes* two month wait. **

**Oh, I gave Lady Lucas a first name. I couldn't remember if Jane Austin ever deemed her one, so I made one up and went with 'Ann.'**

**Its short, but I wanted to give you all something before I had the time/motivation to sit and write a good chapter. **

_The Reason Why_

Lizzie glanced at herself in the mirror. She looked sad, but that was likely a direct result of the fact that she _was _sad. Not the deep seeded sadness that pulls one in for immeasurable amounts of time, but rather a slow moving undercurrent, always there but not quite strong enough to pull you under, to make you succumb. She was stronger then that.

She was getting married in less then a fortnight, an event that would make any reasonable young women elated, but Lizzie just wanted it to be over so that she could spend all her time with her fiancé without feeling wanton or guilty.

After the night they had spent together, Mr. Darcy returned to his normal, aloof self, especially around others. The only inclination she got that he still cared for her was that he never left her side, except for now of course. But he always came just as they were finished with breakfast, arriving with uncanny timing, and left so late in the night that her mother, their supposed chaperone, fell asleep. There were but seven or eight hours a day when they were not together as she made a speedy recovery from her 'incident.' She forgot about it all when he was with her, and it all came rushing back when he wasn't.

As was the case as she stared into the mirror, on a sunny afternoon just after lunch. Mr. Darcy had been called away to town for business, and it had been such an emergency that he could only convey his apologies through Mr. Bingley, not having the time to spare to write her.

She stared at the mirror, just stared at her face, wondering if she looked different to everyone else. Everyone certainly _treated _her differently now. Many strange things had happened since her return to Hertfordshire, for example her mothers new found affection for her least favorite daughter, the re-established courtship of Mr. Bingley and Jane, and most of all the odd disappearance of Sir Lucas after the untimely death of his wife.

She had been told it was a chill that took her, which puzzled Lizzy beyond belief since it was the summer. Maria was spending time with Charlotte, who was now announcing that she was with child.

What a horrible child it would be.

Lizzie smiled at the thought of Mr. Collins's son or daughter, but it faded slowly from her face. She picked her head up out of her hand as it had been resting, and slowly moved aside the collar of her gown to gaze at the angry pink scar beneath her breast. It was healing well, and as long as she did not exert herself, it never hurt anymore. After three weeks, it could have been a distant memory.

Except it wasn't. Lizzie didn't remember the incident much, but she could recall the pain perfectly, the pain and the helplessness, vulnerability and hopelessness. She remembered the feelings, and those were what haunted her at night, the feelings that sometimes _would _drag her down, deeper and deeper through the night, until sunlight came, until Darcy came and dragged her to the surface.

He wasn't here now though. He wasn't here to see her sadness, or he would have tried to make her laugh in that insufferable proper way he adhered to, which usually was the cause of her laughter, not the jest itself. Maybe, if they managed to steal a few moments together, he would kiss her like before, hold her so close she was sure he would never let go.

But he wasn't here.

Lizzie folded her arms on the surface before her, and rested her chin on her arms.

Still staring at the mirror.

Fighting the undercurrent.

And he still wasn't there.

-%-{(()

"William Lucas, you are hereby stripped of your title, your property and possessions. You are charged with murder in cold blood of your wife, Lady Ann Lucas. Do you deny it?"

William Lucas stared at the damp stone floor before him, unable to look at the many faces that judged him. Of all the people in the room, he felt the most sympathetic would be Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth Bennet's betrothed. But that may only be because he murdered the reason for his Elizabeth's suffering.

_Murdered. _

_Cold Blood. _

_Your wife._

The words rang in his head, torturing him. He wanted to die. He would die, just not yet.

Not yet wasn't soon enough.

"William Lucas, do you deny it?" The man demanded. All around him were mumblings. Slowly, very slowly, William Lucas shook his head. _No. _

"Very well. You are hereby sentenced to death by hanging, to take place Friday, the thirteenth of June."

He knocked the gravel on the stand.

The sound rang in his head. Ringing, ringing.

())}-%-

_My dearest Lizzie,_

_I am sorry that business has held me up in town for almost a week now. I had to see to an emergency, and then took advantage and began arrangements for our impending marriage. These are very extensive arrangements that require the utmost of attention and professional help, but I am trying to hurry things along._

_I hope you are feeling better Lizzie, it pains me to see you so melancholy. I hope that our future together will bring you as much joy as it is sure to bring me. You are strong and determined, and brave. You can get through this, I am sure of it._

_I hope to arrive back in Hertfordshire in two days, which leaves us five days until we wed. _

_Those five days will be of the longest in my life._

_Forever yours, _

_F. Darcy_

Lizzie smiled at the letter in her hands, after reading it for the tenth time. Even words in his hand could make her happy again. He was right, she was the bold and brash Lizzie, known for her divergent path off the main road of propriety.

She hiked up her skirts and, deciding for once in the past two months not to pay attention to George Darcy's orders, she ran the distance from the bench beneath the oak tree to her back door. She felt young again, running made her happy.

She was getting married in a week. A _week. _Why was she focusing on the past, when her future, like Darcy had said, looks to be filled with joy?

She opened the back door. "Jane!" she called, running about the house, "Jane?"

"Lizzie? Lizzie, what is it?" her sister's voice cried from the sitting room. She stood upon Lizzie's entry, looking worried at first, but then she became relieved, seeing the smile on her sisters face.

"Jane, I am getting married in a week." She said in a matter of fact tone.

"Yes, Lizzie," Jane said, not quite sure what had come over her sister.

"I am getting married in a week, and if I can help it, I don't want to be like—like—"

"Sad?" her sister offered.

"Yes." Lizzie agreed. "I don't want to be sad anymore."


	24. Hard to Imagine

_**A/N: So does it figure that as soon as I get on break, my laptop crashes? Fate is cruellll. I just got it back, completly revamped and lacking microsoft word. So I'm writing on wordpad, which is just unfortunate due to my horrendous spelling/grammar abilities. As was probably displayed with my spelling of 'horrendous,' because i doubt thats how it is actually spelled.**_

_**And to address a comment left by a reviewer (ALL of you are AMAZING 3 ) I wasnt very clear in my bio about my eduacation. No, I have not graduated high school yet. I'm a senior this year. Our local state university literally backs up to my highschool. parking lots are practically touching. I'm enrolled in a program at the university for HS seniors at my school called 313. You obviously have to be accepted to the university, but I attend morning highschool classes, and I can leave the building by 10:30 on some days. I have one afternoon class a day at the college. Its a nice way to get college credits out of the way before I graduate. Plus I dont have to reapply next year =D I hope that clears up any confusion.**_

_**I hate keeping everyone waiting for such a long period of time. So i'm finishing up this : story soon, so that no one is kept waiting. Sequel? Perhaps, I havent decided yet.**_

_**Man. thats a long authors note :) Force of habit **_

_**Oh, and the quote is from a book I'm reading. Nothing to do with Jane Austin, but I thought it represented complete and utter bliss in such a simple way, I loved it. :)**_

**A/N: So since writing that ^ its been about three weeks. I know, I know. Terrible person. I would just like to share that I got the sequel to Mr. Darcy takes a wife, read it and looooved it. So you should read that too. I'm also just started on the 4th Sharon Lathan book which came out in October (?) Called nights and days at Pemberly. 3 chapters in and its good so far. But reading these books has provided me with the edge I need to be able to think story lines again. The reunion scene in the beginning of this chapter is from three weeks ago, the rest is from today. **

**Enjoi :)**

Hard to Imagine

_"I was suddenly overwhelmed by what an incredible person this boy was, standing in front of me, and by the fact that he was mine, and I was his. _

_'Right now,' Sam said, 'its hard to imagine that it is raining anywhere in the world.'"_

_-Linger, by Maffie Stiefvater_

Her hair was soft as it ran through her fingers, reflecting the sunlight as she stood in the garden with a smile on her lips. He had returned to Netherfield, and expected to arrive at Longbourne at any moment. Unfortunatly, a storm had delayed his return a day. They were to wed in four days. She would become a new person, with a new home, a new companion. Missing Jane was the only painful downside. But Jane was expected to wed Mr. Bingley in the coming month (He had finally proposed) and it was the sisters' secret plan to convince Mr. Bingley into moving closer to derbyshire.

She heard the sound of horses approaching, and she turned wildly around to see three horses approaching, but she only had eyes for the man sitting atop the black horse. He barley gave time for the horse to come fully to a stop before he was dismantleing and striding towards Elizabeth a bit faster than proper. If separation makes the heart grow fonder, Lizzie's had almost taken over her chest, like a growing parasite. She was beyond caring what her mother thought of her daughter's scandalous behavior. In five days it wouldnt matter at all.

She hiked up her skirt and closed the last few feet between them. Throwing her arms around his neck, she embraced him like she was never to see him again. She felt and heard him chuckling.

"I have missed you Lizzie."

She sighed contently. From her vantage point over Darcysshoulder, she saw Mr. Bingley greeting Jane cordially at the door, and George Darcy seemingly torn between which couple amused him most, the overly affectionate or the overly-repressed affectionate.

"I have something for you," he said, and she released her hold on his neck. She did not like him showering her with gifts, not that many had come her way as of yet. She was unable reciprocate.

He pulled away and reached into the depths of his overcoat pocket. When his hand resurfaced, it was holding a small wooden box, and Darcy opened it to reveal a simple necklace, much simpler then she had feared it would be. That did not mean it was not breath-taking. On a dainty silver chain hung a single tear dropped-shaped emerald, set in weaving strands of silver.

She wasnt sure what her face gave away as she stroaked the pendant softly, barley touching it. "You should not have, William," she sighed, looking up at him with a peaked eyebrow. He smiled expectantly, and she knew he wanted assurance that he had chosen well. "It's beautiful."

He took it from it's box and swept the stray hair from the nape of her neck, sending a chill down her spine. He clasped the neckless, finger's lingering tantalizingly. "It dulls in comparison to its new owner."

She shivered once more, and glancing around to see that they were alone, she took Darcy's hand and led him behind a hedge that was in full bloom. They were obscured from view should anyone peer throught the windows in search of them.

He knew what she wanted, and gave it very willingly. His hands cupped her face, while her arms lay slack at her side, paralyzed with sensation. It was all she could do to remain upright. Maybe he sensed the weakness she felt in her legs, or it was just a lucky occurance that she now had something to help support her weight, but she felt her back press against rough tree bark. His body melded into hers, she could barely breathe, but what more could she need? Her senses were hightened, her heart pounded in her ears, and she could hear his heart pounding through his chest, pressed up against her own. Her ears were full of the sound of their gasps for air when they could get them.

He pulled away after a couple days had probably passed, and he remained close, arms braced against the tree, his face inches from her own. They caught their breaths, then he softly kissed her once more, all urgency gone but no less lovingly.

"I missed you too," she informed him with a brillient smile.

())}-%-

Mr. Bennet was not so assuming as to believe he was a perfect gentleman. He was well aware that his natural wit and sarcasm was not generally accepted, especially amongst those of a higher rank. He had a peculiar way of viewing the world and oftan neglected his fatherly duties to put down the antics of his children. When it came to their silliness he was delighted; each of his five daughters amused him in some way. Jane, though she was sweet tempered and least of all like either of her parents, had inherited her fathers tendancy to see the world and its people in as best a light as possible. Kitty and Lydia were two silly and giddy children indeed. He found great humor in watching them trapeize about with ridiculous smiles about their faces. Mary was so solemn and serious it was indeed hard to not find her funny, though it would not be best to allow her to know that fact.

And then there was Lizzie. As a father he could not claim favorites, but even if he never admitted to it, it didnt mean she wasnt his favorite daughter. She was the most like him, and if ever he felt proper fatherly pride, it was because of her. She refused Collins, thank God, and managed to ensnare the prideful and aloof Mr. Darcy with her wiles and wit, like so many others before him. There was not a doubt in his mind that the couple loved each other, and even as he watched them sneak into the gardens upon their reunion he could not muster enough indignancy to do anything about it.

Mr. Bennet merely rubbed his chin, watched his daughter and future son-in-law disappear from a second story window, then turned his back on it. His daugher would have a passionate and love-filled marriage, something he had never had. Oh, lust has certinally played a part in it. Mrs. Bennet, then Miss Gardiner, had been much like his two youngest daughters, young, silly, and beautiful. They fancied themselves in love, but after her first laying in, he could never quite stomach her company for extended periods of time, periods of time that became increasingly shorter until he all together avoided her when he could.

He has his secrets, what man doesnt? But he was quite content with life at the moment. Lizzie betrothed, Jane sure to follow. His wishes concerning his daughters were not far from his wifes; he wanted to see them married, though unlike his wife he did not wanting them marrying into a love-less union. Mrs. Bennet cared about their fortune and security, he cared about their happiness. That Lizzie had both was a great comfort.

A knock on his bedroom door shook him from his reverie. "Yes?" He called. Cook opened and curtsied, addressing him formerly. "Mr. Bennet, a young Mr. Kingsington would request your company, if you please."

"I shall meet him in the library," he announced, picking through his mind for anyone of the name Kingsington in his acquaintance. He could only think of the Meryton Magistrate, who was in fact not young, and therefore he must be recieving his son.

Once situated in the library, Cook led the young man in. He was not particularly handsome, but easy to look at. Chestnut brown hair with hints of red that accented his freckles. He strongly favored his mother's countanance, even with her shade of brown eyes. Kingsington entered, and bowed, gripping the rim of his hat anxiously.

"What can I do for you, Mr...?" Mr. Bennet asked.

"Kingsington, Jebediah Kingsington."

"Jebediah," Mr. Bennet repeated with a trace of humor.

"I beg your pardon sir, I know we have not been formerly acquainted, however I have had the extreme privledge to become close with your daughter, Miss Mary Bennet. I come, sir, to request her hand in marriage."

Mr. Bennet blinked. Mary? Of any of his daughters she was sure to be the unmarried one, relying on the kindness of her brother-in-laws or becoming a governess. Mary had ensnared his righteous young man of a fair inheritence?

"I see..." Mr. Bennet said slowly, deciding to toy with this man as he had done with Mr. Darcy, though with Darcy he had restrained himself for fear of retribution from a man of great influence. "And what is the reason for this sudden proposal? Is my daughter compromised?"

Kingsington's face became a nasty shade of red. "No sir, I would never- could never- I swear to you Mary is as virtuous as can be. I highly admire her for that."

Mr. Bennet chuckled a bit. "Well, I had to ask. Has she accepted your proposal, or have you yet to ask?"

"I know it is outside the traditional way of things but, begging your pardon sir, I have already asked her. And she agreed."

Mr. Bennet could not bring himself to deny what could possibly be the only suitor for his middle daughter. "Very well then, you have my consent. Please send Mary to me,"

"Thank you very much, sir," Kingsington bowed and took his leave.

He chuckled to himself. He was shocked enough Elizabeth had been the first, but now Mary? My how upside-down the world has turned.

-%-{(()

Mary's face was bright red. She was unfortunatly having to suffer from the tauntings of her older sisters, the carefully disguised incredulity of her elder sisters, and her mothers ranting. Mr. Darcy of course stayed for dinner, offering his congratuations to his future sister-in-law. Everyone wanted to meet the elusive Mr. Kingsington, but urgent business required his attention. Everyone was still shocked to know that Mary's 'love affair' had gone quite unnoticed. Though it shouldnt be a surprise, as Mary generally was never noticed much.

"Oh Mary, I always knew there was hope for you yet! Clever, clever girl!" Mrs. Bennet raved, and Elizabeth blushed.

"I apologize for my mother," Elizabeth whispered to her fiance.

Darcy leaned into her so as not to be overhead, "Forgive my forwardness, but I can survive until after the wedding, at which point I will be quite happy to be hours away from your mother at Pemberly."

She should have been offended at the slight on her mother, but Darcy knew Lizzie all too well. In fact, she took no offense at all. She tried to hide a smile at the thought of being away from her mother, alone at Pemberly with her new husband.

"At which point I shall be Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy," She mused.

Darcy took her hand and brought her fingers to his lips, lingering longer than was strictly proper. "Thats all I've wanted for months now," he told her.

Aside from the soon to be Darcy spouses, Jane and Bingley in their own world, and Mrs. Bennet harassing Mary, Lydia and Kitty were busy discussing their want of a husband and the unfairness of it all.

Elizabeth saw the necessity to intervene with Lydia and Kitty, knowing that if their thoughts on the subject matter were left unattended, they could be left to fester until they do something rash; by they Elizabeth merely meant Lydia. However, she was so wrapped up in her own world she left the parenting duties to the actual parents.

Her gaze landed on Jane and Bingley. Jane was her dearest sister, and Lizzie would sincerely miss her company and friendship when she moved to Derbyshire. She was also painfully aware of the fact that if she came to visit Jane, it was close enough to her mother to necessitate visiting her as well. Or if Jane came to visit Elizabeth, Mrs. Bennet would surely assit on accompanying her.

"Mr. Darcy?" Lizzie said suddenly.

"Yes Miss. Bennet?" Darcy replied to his betrothed. They were talking in a volume loud enough for all to hear, necessitating the formalities.

"Is Pemberly the only manor in Derbyshire?" She inquired innocently. Of course during her stay at Pemberly while she was recovering and falling in love with the man she used to despise, she had heard about other manors that were splendid but did not compete with the splendor of Pemberley estate.

Knowing full well the extend of Lizzie's knowledge, Darcy looked confused for a moment, but answered her. "No, there are three others of near equal status, and another modest one."

"Are they all inhabited?"

"All but one. The Moorland estate has been recently vacated. The owners wanted an estate in the south, Kent I believe."

"Would it not be delightful if the new owners of Moorland were dear friends of ours? I would dearly love to have friends nearby," Lizzie exclaimed, and Darcy understood immediatly. He snuck a glance out of the corner of his eye and saw they had captured both Jane and Bingley's attention.

"Yes, I dearesay that would be desirable," Darcy smiled vaguely, just as the clock chimed the hour.

"I say, Darcy, look at the time!" Bingley exclaimed. "We dont wish to overstay our welcome. I fear we must be off."

Lizzie tried not to look so disappointed. After all, the day after tomorrow would be the beginning of a whole new life for her, she could be patient. Possibly. She rose, along with Darcy, Bingley, and Jane. As they walked to the entry, Jane enquired, "Pray, Mr. Darcy, where is your uncle?"

"Spreading his knowledge of medicine amongs the people of Meryton," Darcy said with an undertone of Irony. "I am afraid a few days without attending to an illness or two makes him feel restless."

After a few more moments of pleseant conversation, the two couples moved away to bid their own adieus.

"I find, Lizzie, I do not want to part from your company after such an extended trip. Will you and your sister join us for breakfast at Netherfield?" He inquired.

He took both her hands in his as she replied that of course they would. The rest of their stolen moments were employed soundless-ly. His arms were wrapped around her, and her head lay against his chest, the strong beats of his heart a comfort to her.

Eventually both he and Bingley left, and relieved, Lizzie retired to her room. She would not admit it to anyone now, except for Dr. Darcy who was obligated to keep her medical qualms a secret, she was still fatigued and sore, occasionally suffering from dizzy spells.

But as she drifted into sleep, her last conscious thought was that she would be well enough for her wedding night. She must.

**A/N: So there you have it, my weak attempt at another chapter. Dont get me wrong, I love fluff, but I feel like there needs to be some sort of plot line twist or I cant really stomach it. Somehow my idea of a plotline twist is to add even more fluff with Mary's engagement. I plan on develping Kingsington's character a bit more, if I write that much more. Hopefully the next chapter wont be as long a wait.**

**Reviews bring me great happiness, and trust me, I need it :)**


	25. Antigone, A Lady, & A Colonel No Longer

**Antigone, A Lady, and A Colonel No Longer**

Breakfast at Netherfield was rather formal due to the fact that Caroline Bingley and the Hursts were present. No one wanted to give Caroline an excuse to complain more than she had been lately, except for George Darcy, who still flaunted his Indian styled apparel and general disregard for standard English manners. It was a large party around the table, Jane and Elizabeth had arrived just on time, Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley eagerly awaiting their arrival at the main entrance. George Darcy, Georgiana, Caroline, the Hurst's and Mr. Jared Bingley, a close cousin to Charles, and his wife Matilda.

The conversation much revolved around the upcoming nuptials of Elizabeth and Darcy, the next morning, and Jane and Mr. Bingley within the next month. Both couples were secretly relieved at the end of breakfast, however, when the various guests and inhabitants of Netherfield dispersed to pursue favorite pastimes, Mr. Darcy took Elizabeth on his arm and led her through the gardens.

They were quiet for a while, feeling thankful for the presence of each other. The sun was bright and warm on this last day of May.

"Pray tell Mr. Darcy, where are you leading me?" Lizzie asked teasingly as they ventured even farther into the twisting paths within the garden. She could no longer tell from whence they had come, and therefore suspected some grand plan of his.

He brought her over to a bench secluded in bushes and the shade of a cherry tree, smiling at her. "I wish to show you something, but first," Darcy leaned over to kiss her, Elizabeth happily complying with his wish. "Good morning, Lizzie," He said with a smile when the kiss was abandoned.

"Good morning William,"

())}-%-

"This is Mella." Darcy said, placing a hand on the horse's back. The horse being a magnificent mare, supposedly thoroughbred. Though quite taken with the beauty of the animal, Lizzie raised an eyebrow at her fiancé as she stroked Mella's nose.

"You wished to show me a horse?" She asked, the horse in question snorting as if it understood Elizabeth and felt indignant, so she took a carrot from the young stable hand and appeased Mella.

"Not exactly, but she is an important part, and I therefore felt it was prudent to introduce the two of you." Darcy explained, smiling. "You see, quite some time ago, about a year actually, while Mr. Bingley was staying at Pemberly as he does every year, Mella and Agaue were found in a rather..." He struggled for words, unsure how to explain.

"Compromising situation?" Elizabeth suggested with knowing mirth, causing Darcy to laugh.

"Yes, precisely." He offered her his arm and they left the horse to travel to a different stall, one that was seemingly unoccupied until closer inspection. Lizzie audibly sighed as she gazed at the young white foal, with a smattering of darkly colored spots on its back. "We're not sure where she got her coloring," Darcy inputted.

"She?"

"Yes, she was born to Mella but a week ago, and Bingley insists she belong to me."

"What is her name?"

There was a pause as Darcy opened the stall and offering her entrance, which she gladly accepted, kneeling slightly to pet the filly, which gladly accepted the affection. "That is your decision, if you would so like it."

Elizabeth looked up at Darcy, who was smiling at her.

"My decision?"

"Yes, I would like her to be yours if you want her. As soon as she is named and we are married, Bingley has agreed to sign her over to Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy."

Elizabeth froze, her hand stilling on the foal's head. The tiny white horse whined slightly, nuzzling its nose into her hand, begging for attention. "William, you cannot possibly give me a horse..." It was not that she didn't want her, for Elizabeth was already deeply enraptured with her, but she had never received a gift so grand. Also, she found her skills with a horse to be mediocre at best.

"I can, and I will." He insisted. "Besides, owning a horse is practically a requirement with being a Darcy. Georgiana owns one even, though she unfortunately does not find much time to ride."

"I suppose... if I must in order to be initiated fully to your family," Elizabeth said with a smirk. "I fear, however, I am appalling when it comes to riding side-saddle, as is surely required."

"Indeed," Darcy assented, "However when we are traveling privately through our grounds, I will not begrudge you riding astride your horse."

"Our grounds," she murmured, returning to stroke the horse that would soon be all hers.

"Ours."

The silence that surrounded them was filled with happy thoughts of the future and the sound of horses and the wind.

"What will you name her?" Elizabeth considered the question seriously, gazing about for inspiration. Such a grand horse as hers was sure to be deserved a grand name. She spotted Mr. Darcy's horse not to far away, a horse that was bequeathed a Greek name, and therefore she decided hers would as well. "Antigone."

He thought over her decision for a moment. "A beautiful name, to be sure, but it has a tragic meaning and a tragic story behind it."

"Indeed," Elizabeth nodded, "However I have always adored the name, and we shall make sure our Antigone had not the same dire circumstances in her life as the tragic heroine. Plus our horse's names go together. Antigone and Agaue, how beautiful it sounds."

"I like William and Elizabeth more," Darcy took her hand and led her from the stables where he could kiss her away from the prying eyes of stable hands and the like. He had once again been rendered breathless by her beauty, but it was the talk of the lands of Pemberly belonging to both of them that moved his thoughts away from naming horses and ancient Greek tragedies. In less then a day she would be his bride, and in less than two days he would be bringing her home to Pemberley once more, not as a guest this time, but as its mistress.

After a detour in which both of their honor was called into question yet again, they encountered Mr. Bingley and Jane, which was just as well because Elizabeth was eager to show her newest friend to her sister.

"Mr. Bingley, thank you so much for your generosity! Mella's filly is simply amazing,"

"It is nothing, Miss Elizabeth. Darcy has much more enthusiasm for horses, and as the very foal in question was fathered by his own horse, I saw no reason why she should go to a more caring family."

Jane looked confused momentarily, enquiring as to just who was receiving a horse. "Mr. Bingley's mare gave birth but a week ago to a rather spirited foal, and he insisted I keep him." Darcy explained to his future sister-in-law. "I have instead insisted she be signed over to Miss Elizabeth."

Jane laughed demurely. "Lizzie, you own a horse? But you never ride, you prefer to walk."

"Easily remedied by the overall splendid ness of her new horse," Darcy countered.

Bingley grinned, "Not to mention I doubt she has any choice in the matter, knowing the Darcy tradition."

The four friends teased each other as Darcy and Elizabeth led the way back to the stables to show Jane Antigone. They talked of her blood lines and when she could be removed from her mother and have stamina enough to make the trip to Pemberley. It would be another year or two before Elizabeth could really ride the horse, but that was long enough for her to become an expert rider in both side saddle and sitting astride.

Besides the black spots on her back, everyone agreed Antigone was of the purest white they had ever seen in a horse, and was sure to be the most beautiful, coveted by all. Nothing less for Mr. Darcy's future wife could be expected.

-%-{(()

"Oh dear, it appears poor Mr. Darcy has suffered a fall," Elizabeth laughed as she stood looking down on her fiancé, who looked severely annoyed at the dirt accumulated on his bottom. He was walking her as far as the outer edges of Longbourne. For propriety's sake no one could know they had been walking together unescorted for such a long duration of time, for no one could be trusted alone with a future lover, especially a couple as in love as they. Darcy had insisted, however, on making sure the majority of her walk was 'traversed safely,' but at present time, Mr. Darcy's safety was called into question, not Elizabeth's.

"I find no humor in this," he grumbled as he pulled himself to his full height, his impassive Darcy mask in place as he suffered through his embarrassment. Instead of annoyed at his stony expression as she used to be, she found all the more delight in his chagrin. What a treat it had been to observe the proud and honorable Mr. Darcy stumbling over a nonexistent root he claimed was not three feet away. Even better to watch him land on his backside with the stunned expression of a child having their favorite toy taken away but not knowing why.

The pair was not a quarter mile away from Elizabeth's house, and so she had challenged Mr. Darcy to a race, sprinting ahead to her favorite childhood climbing tree. Apparently he had deliberated whether to chase after her or maintain his dignity, and so his legs had become entangled in a sort of indecisive battle, causing his fall.

Laughter finally subsiding, Lizzie remembered herself and asked if he was hurt. "Nothing but my pride," he replied tersely, and she giggled a little replying, "Your secret is safe with me, sir. You can sleep soundly tonight knowing your reputation will remain intact." She resumed walking, and he followed suit.

"I doubt I will sleep very much tonight," he mused quietly, and she agreed. "It will be a long twenty three hours," he sighed, referencing of course to how long it will be until he next saw her; at the altar ready to become his wife.

Longbourne was soon in their view, and he stopped to bid her a lengthy goodbye. "Until next time, my love,"

Elizabeth walked away with a skip in her step, hearing him say the words 'my love' over and over in her mind, anticipating the next time she would see him. Eager to talk of sisterly things with Jane, who should have already been delivered by carriage, her own choice of travel, Lizzie picked up her skirts and ran, approaching from the back of the house and entering through the kitchens. The first person she encountered was Hill, and with a smile on her face, barely sparing her a glance, greeted her.

"Miss!" Hill hissed quietly in such an urgent manner that captured all of Elizabeth's love struck attentions. The lady's face was stressed, alerting Elizabeth to the odd silence of the house.

"What has happened?" she asked worriedly.

"Lady Catherine de Bourgh is here Miss, and she has been asking for you."

Upon entering the drawing room after making herself more presentable, she was struck by the oddness of it all. Lady Catherine demanded all attention despite her being a guest in the Bennet home, and her daughter Anne was not with her. The fact that her mother and two youngest sisters had been stricken silent was even more confounding. When she did make her presence known, however, Lady Catherine demanded everyone leave the room except for Elizabeth, a demand that was adhered to all too eagerly.

"You of course know why I am here Miss Bennet," Lady Catherine snapped, standing from her chair as soon as the door was closed behind its previous inhabitants.

"I might assume it is to do with my approaching nuptials to your nephew," Elizabeth said stiffly, knowing full well that this was in fact the topic she wished to address, though it was obvious that Lady Catherine was not here to offer her congratulations.

"You selfish, insufferable, manipulative child!" The Lady exclaimed. Her next words flowed so effortlessly one could assume she had rehearsed her speech. "Have you no respect for yourself or for my nephew? You, employing your witchcraft on him and enticing him, tricking him into matrimony! To think, the future mistress of Pemberly, a country chit! Wanton and selfish, oh if my poor sister were alive today she would die of heartbreak. It was her sincerest wish to see her son married to my daughter, Anne. And lo, he marries into the gentry! A girl of no circumstance, no connections, inferior birth, and related to _tradesmen _and _lawyers. _Your mother and sisters silly women with no thought for propriety and lacking manners, your _father! _Neglectful, irresponsible man! I-"

"Lady Catherine!" Elizabeth cut in, unable to stomach more of her insults. "Have you come only to insult me? I am to marry your nephew tomorrow, and there is nothing you can do to prevent that. You have traveled all this way for nothing."

"I have traveled all this way," Lady Catherine fumed, "Not only to inform you of all the reasons you are unsuitable and unworthy of my nephew, Mr. Darcy, but to offer you what he was too weak to. I can be a generous woman, Miss Bennet, and I have found a way to make everyone happy."

"Pray, do tell," Elizabeth said dryly with no amount of interest in her voice. She would be quite happy to turn the lady out without a second glance if she was not to be a future relative.

"I am prepared to offer you ten thousand pounds, Miss Bennet, as compensation for agreeing to go no further with marrying Mr. Darcy." Lady Catherine looked extremely serious, and it was with great effort Lizzie did not laugh.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I know not what you expected out of this union, but marrying Mr. Darcy is not only incredibly selfish and unfounded, but it would destroy his reputation. His friends and family would never speak to him again, and all of society would look on it as a scandal. A scandal much worse than calling off a wedding. I will pay you ten thousand pounds if you agree to this, never speak to my nephew or his family again, and keep _quiet _about it. Mr. Darcy is in fact to be engaged to my daughter."

Elizabeth knew not which matter to address first. "Lady Catherine, I can assure you I have not tricked your nephew into making me an offer. I will not accept your bribe money, and I am extremely angered at your accusations against both my character and Mr. Darcy's. If indeed he was to marry Lady Anne, you are suggesting he is a man not of his word, but I can assure you, he is. If it was his understanding he was to be joined with your family, he would not have made an offer to me. As it is, he has told me of your beliefs and assured me there was no foundation in them. You have insulted my family, my fiancé, and myself in every manner possible. I must ask you to leave immediately."

"You are denying my generosity?"

"Indeed, I am not. I have heard no offers of a generous nature, only insults and lies."

Elizabeth was nearly concerned Lady Catherine was suffocating due to the extremely bright hue to her face. "I have never been treated thus in my entire life!" she bellowed, turning on her heel and marching to the door. "Mark my words," she cried as she wrenched open the door, a flash of skirts disappearing suspiciously farther down the hall, "My nephew will hear of this, he will see reason! Then you will regret rejecting my offer Miss Bennet." The front door shut with so much power the house shook, leaving a heavy silence in its wake.

Not wanting to deal with the questions of her family, who no doubt heard the entire debacle, she turned and exited the house much the same way she had entered not a quarter hour ago.

())}-%-

Darcy strode obliviously happy into the drawing room at Netherfield with a smile on his face, a sight not often seen out of his own privacy. He was so engrossed in his memories that he did not notice the figure standing quietly by the window.

"May I enquire as to why there is dirt all over your backside Darcy?" A familiar voice asked from behind. Darcy turned around with a mixture of delight and embarrassment. He had thought all the dirt was gone, but was exceptionally pleased to see his Cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam smiling at him.

"A mishap on my walk I fear, Colonel." Darcy explained quickly.

"I am not to be called Colonel any longer Darcy," Richard said grimly.

Stunned momentarily, Darcy inquired, "What has happened, Richard?" A longer inspection of his cousin made him realize he looked tired, and perhaps a bit sorrowful, expressions as foreign on Richard as a public smile was on Darcy. The feelings his cousin was obviously subject to were in such stark contrast to his own, that Darcy could not fathom what was wrong. However, before Richard could begin to explain, the door burst open revealing the furious form of Lady Catherine, followed by an extremely bewildered Mr. Bingley, who had never met the imposing woman before.

"Darcy, I demand you put an end to this nonsense of marrying Miss Bennet at once!" Lady Catherine declared, not even wasting time in exchanging greetings or even an introduction with the master of the house, Mr. Bingley.

"Aunt-"

"She is an insufferable, fortune hunting country chit you have been tricked by. Put an end to this and make good on the promise you have made Anne! It was your mother's dearest wish-"

"A wish only you have claimed to be true, and a promise I have never made. You delude yourself in many areas, Lady Catherine, and I know full well both my own intentions and Miss Bennets. If you cannot respect my decision in this matter, I beg you do not return tomorrow morning for the ceremony. I take your insults against Miss Bennet personally, and I will refuse to acknowledge our connection until you have apologized to both Elizabeth and I."

All three men present in the room nearly expected smoke to billow from her ears. "Think of your sister, Darcy, of the people you are associating her with-"

"I will beg you not to bring Georgiana into this discussion aunt."

"- and the Earl! The Earl of Matlock will look upon this union with as much distaste as I, I can assure you! You will have estranged your whole family-"

Catherine was once again cut of, but this time by Richard, which was a shock as he usually tried to remain as neutral as possible when disputes of this nature arose between Darcy and their aunt.

"I can assure you madam; the Earl of Matlock is indeed pleased at the upcoming union, and thinks Miss Elizabeth is a delightful woman."

"Poppycock," Lady Catherine exclaimed. "Your brother is much more sensible than you, Richard. Jonathan will look on the union much as I do, for he has not the opportunity to meet Miss Elizabeth and succumb to her charms as you have. Shame, Richard. I was sure you had proper pride for your family."

"Do not speak of matters you know not of, Lady Catherine. I come on this festive occasion unfortunately bearing sad tidings. My brother, the Earl of Matlock has suffered an accident. The title as been passed on to me. You will find no allegiance here."

Stunned silence engulfed the room.

**A/N: dun dun duuuuun. ****Yes, I can't help but adding a little drama. I keep saying I'm going to end the story soon, but I always add a little twist. Darn it all ;)**

**I've wrote a little song to the tune of row row row your boat.**

_**Reviews, reviews, reviews, reviews,**_

_**I love to read reviews!**_

_**So keep them coming**_

_**and I'll keep writing, **_

_**I'll write the day away!**_

**ha. Clever, I know**


	26. Mother Knows Best

**A/N: Yes, yes I know, I took foreeeeever to update. I sincerely apologize. So hopefully another chapter within a week of the previous one will make you all happy :)**

**I am also aware I keep saying I'm going to end it, and if I did that would certainly give me more time to do responsible things, buuuuut I love the feeling of knowing people read my work, and writing with them in mind; predicting readers' reactions, suggestions and theories is something I love to do. So, unless I come to a point I feel is a good way to end my little rendition of P&P, I'll keep going.**

**Mother Knows Best**

What happened after Richard rather abrupt announcement was a whirlwind of confusion. Torn between her fury at Darcy (and the realization she was fighting a losing battle) and shock at the death of Jonathan, Lady Catharine left uttering a contradictory mixture of foul words and condolences. The room was only silent for a second when Caroline Bingley entered, countenance lit with curiosity inquiring as to what had happened. While Charles did his best to explain to his sister, Georgiana and her uncle entered the room, having just watched Lady Catharine depart at an ungodly speed, their own curiosity sparked.

Darcy and Richard were the only ones not talking, the noise in the room growing to a roar as people talked over each other to be heard. Unable to prevent a bit of annoyance, Darcy whistled, filling the room with a shrill noise that silenced everyone immediately. It wasn't exactly a proper way to get everyone's attention, but his temper was short at the moment, and so could care less about the affronted look in Caroline's countenance.

"Thank you," he muttered, looking to his cousin. "Richard, what exactly has happened?"

"Jonathan suffered from a heart attack, apparently fatal. I received the news only last night." Richard explained, his eyes flickering to each person in the room. "Fortunately my family owns a big estate, my sister-in-law, nieces and nephews, and my mother will continue to live with me."

Darcy was unsure of how Richard was handling the situation. Being the sudden inheritor of a grand estate was something Darcy could sympathize with, but not gaining a title or losing a sibling. Not that Richard and Jon were ever close; Richard was fifteen years younger than his brother, and by the time he was old enough to develop a relationship with him, Jon was off at school. They saw little of each other as Richard grew, and so to compensate, Richard found a brother in Darcy, only a couple years his junior.

Slowly the room emptied, everyone expressing their condolences, though Richard did not look particularly grieved per say, merely stressed. Once the two cousins were alone together, Darcy inquired as to how he was handing the situation once more.

"I am in shock to be sure," the former colonel said with a sigh. "I wish I had endeavored to make a better relationship with my brother, and that we did not argue so much, therefore I feel a little guilty as well."

"Guilt is natural," Darcy admitted. He himself had felt immensely guilty that he had been away at school when his own father passed.

Richard surveyed his cousin for a moment, and then smiled a bit. "But the look on our aunt's face was very nearly worth my ill times announcement." Darcy whole heartedly agreed. "But I hope this will not spoil your wedding. I had not wished to formally announce it until the day after next, but with Lady Catherine's anger combined with her natural want for gossip..."

"Yes, I see your point. Word will spread rapidly to be sure. However I cannot foresee Jonathan's death grieving me to point of distraction tomorrow, no offense intended of course." He nodded to his cousin. Thoughts of his wedding led him to think of Elizabeth who had suffered at the hands of his aunt this day as well, and more than likely was the object of a great deal more angry words and insults than he had. Years of dealing with his aunt's temper had taught him he need only interrupt her before her speech got too far and the unpleasantness wasn't as much as it could be. What had been said to her and how was she dealing with it? Darcy was suddenly fighting the urge to run out of the house and find her.

"No offense taken," Richard responded to Darcy. "I realize you will be within the early stages of your marriage Darcy, and I will endeavor not to bother you unless I cannot see a way around it, but will you teach me the finer aspects of running an estate? I fear no one ever bothered to teach much to a second son," he bit his bottom lip with irony and mirth. His entire life he had been second and now he was given everything that was denied him. It came with the cost of losing a brother however, albeit a brother he was not particularly fond of, and so it was a bitter sweet victory.

"Of course,"

"Now Darcy, go find your fiancé before you implode on yourself and I will have truly lost a brother."

Darcy grinned. Richard could read him like a book.

())}-%-

Elizabeth, despite all that had happened to her, was not afraid to travel the woods alone. She was highly aware of her surroundings though, more so than she ever was, and her mind never truly wandered from the danger that could be lurking about. Reasonably, she knew the chances of being attacked and kidnapped again within only a couple months were not high, but she now acknowledged it as a possibility.

This heightened awareness partnered with a vague return of pain to her chest and an incredible amount of anger made Elizabeth irrationally want to cry, or maybe even scream. She walked a path that was a favorite of hers, especially in the spring when an abundance of flowers were in bloom, as it was now. There was nearly any color you could think of when she looked about, but fresh air, exercise and the beauty of nature did nothing to make her feel much better, and she doubted anything immediately available to her would.

Vaguely she considered walking to Netherfield, but it was improper to call upon Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy when she had been there but two hours ago.

Unable to ignore the return of pain much longer, both in her chest and a stitch in her side, Lizzie sat on a rock to rest, unsure of how long it had been since she left her home, how long it had been since she was victim to Lady Catherine's words. Not that she had let the lady see how much she was affected. Rationally she should not doubt Mr. Darcy's feelings for her, or the sense behind his motives. But she did, all the words Lady Catherine had hurled at her had rooted deep and refused to leave. Had Darcy made a previous commitment to Anne de Bourgh? Did he see clearly the repercussions Lady Catherine insisted he would suffer? To think of all his family and acquaintances shunning him because of her was unbearable. She had acknowledged the impropriety of their union, but had never given much deeper thought to it. Would her own family suffer as a consequence? Would Lydia and Kitty never find husbands because their sister was the disgraced, inferior wife to Fitzwilliam Darcy? She would never know for sure.

And among her doubts weaved the taunting insults to her sisters, her mother and father, even her uncles. Did this woman know how injurious her words had been? Lizzie hoped not. Surely she was at that moment arguing with Darcy, forcing him to see what she believed to be sense. And would he? Would she find herself abandoned at the altar come morning, or not even making it that far at all?

Elizabeth made a noise of disgust towards the woman who had turned her world upside down in a matter of minutes. She wiped away a tear that rolled down her cheek, the wind cooling the skin beneath its trail. Lizzie did not cry, she had not for a long time. She had finally found happiness with the one man she had sworn she never would, her life was right again after so many people had wronged her, and her future had looked solid. Now it was as unclear as the bottom of a muddy river; she can't be sure of what awaits until she has tangible evidence of it. Would it be smooth, fine sand or jagged rocks that sliced the bottom of her feet?

She sat on that rock, her thoughts chasing each other, fighting between optimism and pessimism. The sun gradually sank until it was just kissing the horizon, and she knew she should start her walk home before it was dark. She stood, her legs weak and achy from not moving for such a long time, and started her walk back home, watching the shadows from the corner of her eyes as was her custom now. She was almost about to cross the hedgerow, when she would have her first view of her home, when the sound of horse hoofs alerted her that someone was growing closer.

Elizabeth panicked, grabbing the first big rock she saw and holding it firmly in her right hand, ready to attack if need be. She would not have people looking at her as if she were a damsel in distress once more.

The rock was soon deemed unnecessary, however, when the familiar sight of Aguae rounded the corner, and the even more familiar sight of her fiancé sitting atop him. She dropped the rock at the same time as when he jumped off, his horse still slightly in motion, and very nearly ran to her.

"Lizzie," he breathed, looking for the entire world thankful to find her, and he pulled her into him. His arms around her felt reassuring and protective and she heard him apologize quietly a couple times.

"Your aunt-" She said after a moment, but he stepped away from her, hands holding onto her shoulders, keeping her at arms length so that he could look firmly into her eyes.

"Whatever she said to you, pay no attention. I have no regrets Lizzie and I never will."

She smiled a little at how assured he sounded, but she wondered if he had only ever thought vaguely about it as she had. Her smile turned into a tiny frown, and she studied the ground for a moment, choosing her words carefully so she did not offend him. Darcy was an intelligent man and to suggest he had not thought his decision as thoroughly as he should have might make him feel slighted.

She spoke slowly, still debating if she should bring it up at all, "Your family..."

"I know that Richard and Georgiana fully back up my decision, as well as my Uncle George. Everyone else is inconsequential."

In actuality, Darcy had assumed these were the things his aunt would choose to throw at her, to make her feel guilty on his behalf, instead of using only the tactic of applying to her own self interests. Anyone could see Elizabeth cared about others, and if she thought she was negatively affecting someone's life, she would try to remedy it. Personally, he was quite proud he had predicted her reaction correctly. It was becoming easier to anticipate her now, though she still surprised him from time to time.

"And of your acquaintances? What if you are no longer welcome at balls or gatherings at a friend's club?" She asked him.

Darcy moved his hands down to hold onto her hands, rubbing his thumb lightly across her knuckles reassuringly. "You know I have no interest for such things, especially now that I am not searching for a wife." He smiled at her, and she could not help but smile back, "I would quite like the excuse from social obligations and stay home with you."

Elizabeth sighed. He seemed incredibly convinced, and had apparently thought about what she had not. Of course, she realized, he had told her of everything he had to think of during his first disastrous proposal. He had issued almost the same insults against her family then as Lady Catherine had just that day, he told her of his family's expectations, and of what others expected from him; those expectations did not include her.

Elizabeth sighed. "If I could have been born with a fortune..." she muttered.

He placed a hand beneath her chin and raised her head slightly so that she made eye contact with him. "Then you would not be the same Elizabeth I have fallen in love with. I like you quite the way you are."

())}-%-

"William!" She laughed, pretending to be affronted. "Seriously, it is nearly dark, I must return to the house!"

"We will be married in twelve hours, is that not wondrous?" He exclaimed, staring at the newly unveiled moon set against a pink and purple sky, the stars beginning to show as well. Darcy had insisted she stay with him until she was reassured and had no worries of the future or his own feelings. What it had turned into was a brief respite alone together, on their backs gazing at the sky. She had very nearly forgotten all about Lady Catherine and her insults.

"Wondrous to be sure, Mr. Darcy," Lizzie agreed, turning onto her side and facing him. "But I fear if my father catches us in such a state, alone on the floor of the woods, I would not have a groom to greet me in the morning."

Darcy laughed, taking her hand and bringing her fingers to his lips. "I would die a most happy man." She was continually amazed at how open, happy and carefree he was alone with her. He was still the same reserved man in public, and there were those who yet accused him of pride and arrogance, just as Elizabeth had. She nearly laughed out loud at the shock the ton would receive if they saw this side of the Master of Pemberley.

"And pray, madam, may I ask what secret you find so amusing?" Darcy asked, noting the tell-tale quirk to her lips. She opted not to answer however, springing to her feet. Aguae, who was grazing a small distance away, looked around at her, and she made her way towards him. She was mounting the horse before Darcy was fully onto his feet. "Are you intending to steal my horse Miss Bennet?"

"Nay, I intend to obtain a decent view of my house without coming in view of its inhabitants," Lizzie craned her neck to peer above the bushes, noting the flickering candle lights in the dining room. "Oh dear, if I do not make haste I will have to starve."

"And then it will be _I_ who has lost a future spouse." he stated as she swung a leg off from Aguae, and his large, warm hands grasped her waist to easily lower her to the ground. He did not let go when she was firmly attached to the earth however, and instead drew her in for a quick and chaste kiss. It left more to be desired, but neither trusted their bodies to willingly comply with conventions. They would simply have to wait another day.

"Until the morning Mr. Darcy," she whispered.

"I will hardly rest for anticipation."

They kissed once more, and she loped off towards her home, attempting in vain to wipe the silly smile off her face. She managed not to look back at him until she reached the door. She could see him watching her, a shape you would not be able to see in the darkness unless you knew it was there. She fought the urge to wave and was instead contented with a smile she hoped he could see, before slipping through the door.

Lizzie had not realized the chill to the spring night until she was encompassed by the warmth inside, the familiar overbearing exclamations from Mrs. Bennet and her two youngest daughters. She did not expect her mother to round the corner looking like the end of the world had come.

"Lizzy! My goodness you've given us all a fright! What with that Lady bombarding us with questions about you and demanding to see you, I can hardly blame you for running away. But what if you were taken by scoundrels again! Lord knows-"

"Mama,"

"What could have happened? Poor Mr. Darcy, to lose his wife the night before he is to wed!" That brought a smile to Lizzie's face, that topic having been used not ten moments ago. "Honestly Lizzie, do not smile. Have you no thought for my nerves! I have been waiting here to give you much needed womanly advice and you have been gallivanting about the property! I certainly hope you will not behave this way when you are wed, I-"

"Mama!" Lizzie said much louder, effectively cutting off what would have been a very painful speech to listen to indeed. "I am well, there is no need to worry so," She took off her coat and handed it to a waiting Hill, moving towards the smell of dinner waiting on the table. She was famished.

"Just a moment Lizzie, I need to speak to you." Lizzie heard the door to the sitting room open, and she turned to see her mother holding open the door with an expectant look on her face. Lydia rounded the corner looking curious. "Away with you Lydia, I _must _speak with your sister on things of a delicate nature."

Her mother had just shooed her favorite daughter, effectively catching Lizzie's interest. She moved into the sitting room, turning to face Mrs. Bennet as she closed the door.

"Now," she said, seeming eager to be of service, "Let us talk of your wifely duties."

"Wifely duties?" She repeated skeptically. What would her mother know of running an estate as grand as Pemberley?

"Do not act so naive Lizzie; I explained to you how you came to this earth when you were nine."

In an almost comical way, Elizabeth's eyes widened with understand. "Oh, no mama, please-"

"Stop making such a fuss, there are things you need to know." And unable to stop her, Lizzie was forced to listen to her mother prattle on and on about the sacred marriage bed. "It is painful Lizzie, and most unpleasant. But it is our lot to grin and bare it, for if our husbands are not satisfied they will be most unpleasant. Once you produce and heir however, I assume you are safe. Mr. Darcy can discretely find his pleasures elsewhere, while you dutifully raise his children. I do not exaggerate Lizzie-" Something Elizabeth seriously doubted, "When I say it is the most painful thing I have felt, aside from child birth of course. It does not hurt so much after a couple times, but after tomorrow night you will be most sore, though you will be forced through the experience the next night as well, I may assume. Your father and I-"

"Mama, please stop," Lizzie begged, unable to think of her parents in such a way without feeling sick. "I... I thank you for your advice; I will put it to good use." She walked around Mrs. Bennet, opened the door and nearly ran to the dining room, where their conversation could not possibly be continued.

Dinner was a struggle, simply because she could not meet her father's eyes thanks to her mother. All the talk was of Elizabeth's wedding in the morning, but all her thoughts were on her wedding night.

**A/N: wooo. Writing spree. I'm supposed to be writing a paper on the Revolutionary war. But in all honesty, that sounds boring, so I wrote this instead. I have to do a little research on how a wedding was back then. I know there was a wedding breakfast, but I can't remember if that comes before or after. Oh well, I'm pleased with how quickly I updated. **

**sweiver ekam em yppah. Very very happy.**


	27. Their Stories

**A/N: Midterm week, gotta love it =P I was never intending on such a long wait period like before, so I'm going to post this chapter to help hold you all over until I get the chance to write a proper one. And since I don't have the time, I'm sorry but it won't be the wedding. I don't think a quick chapter can do it justice. This will address some of the really minor background story lines however. So, here it is:**

_How Mary met Jeb, How Felicity goes to India_

The Pews of the church closest to Longborne were all empty as Mary entered. Sunlight filled the room, adding color and life to the empty house of prayer. It was warm and smelled faintly at dust, but this was where Mary was at peace.

Despite appearances she cared very much for her sisters, but their tendency towards loudness and exaggeration drove Mary out of the house occasionally when no one would notice. Today, and the past few days for that matter, had been particularly irksome as her sister was to be wed the next day in this very church.

Mary did not understand all the fuss and attention devoted to nuptial ceremonies, she believed finery and exquisite decoration meant nothing compared to the union of two souls for life. In this case, Mr. Darcy was concerned and Mary dearly wished her family would attempt at a little more composure and decency around him. As for Lizzie, she had her moments of foolishness as well, and quite frankly Mary was shocked the proud Mr. Darcy of Pemberley had chosen Lizzie out of everyone.

Lizzie was frequently on Mary's thoughts as of late. Growing up, Mary had idolized the second oldest sister, who was not two years older than she. However after failing to capture the specific affections of her father as Lizzie had, or her mother as Lydia, Kitty and Jane, she grew into an acceptance for loneliness, and got on quite nicely. Which is again why she was currently at the Church.

But Mary has more reason now to visit the church. She walked along the seats, running her hand on the smooth wood thinking back on that day she had come to get away like any other, only that one particular time it had been to escape the mournful feeling of the house. Her sister had been missing and there was nothing Mary felt she could do but pray. And on that day her solitude had been invaded by a man noticing what many had not; that Mary had soft tears rolling down her cheeks as she mourned the loss of her most favorite sister.

Jebediah Kingsington had made his way into the church in order to seek solitude as well, though it was mainly because the milliner's daughter would not leave him alone with her outrageous flirting. Jebediah could not fathom where her attraction to him came from, and not being the best in social situations, he fled to the closest sanctuary, where he encountered another young woman of a decidedly different attitude.

"Miss Mary," he had said in a comforting tone, knowing why the young Bennet was alone, silently crying while she prayed. Everyone in Meryton had known of the disastrous disappearance of the lively Elizabeth Bennet, and many of her general acquaintances mourned with her family.

She looked up at him, obviously surprised. She wiped away her tears with the back of her hand in a surprisingly childish gesture and nodded once in acknowledgement. She had said nothing, however.

Jebediah did not want to leave Mary alone, knowing from personal experience that the best you can do for someone in mourning is just be present to offer silent support. And so he sat next to Mary until she had finished with her prayer and her tears had dried. When she stood he offered to escort her home, and when she politely declined, he insisted on at least accompanying her to the edge of town.

They walked in companionable silence, Mary on the arm of a man for the first time ever of her own choice. She had been intrigued by his interest in her, more than even her family had shown in her for many years. They eventually began conversation about inconsequential things such as the weather, the upcoming hunting season and books. When they parted that day, Jebediah placed a chaste kiss upon her hand and bid her adieu.

The next day Lizzie was returned home safely, and the day after that Mary escaped once more to give her thanks in prayer. She preferred praying at the church because of its silence, but she was not alone for long. Her eyes were closed when she heard someone sit next to her, and a small part of her, the feminine part that had long been hidden, stirred, whispering to her that it was Jebediah. Stubbornly, she finished her prayer before opening her eyes to grace Jebediah with a smile. He offered his congratulations on Lizzie being returned home safely, and he once again escorted her out of town.

Most days she returned to the church, and most of those days he appeared. Perhaps he waited for her, watching to see if she came to the church that day, on the days she went unnoticed at home. About three weeks after Lizzie's safe return, he asked for her hand in marriage.

It was unconventional, they had not been intimate acquaintances long, and their courtship was unknown by anyone, but Mary's feminine side had grown over the past few weeks, and she gave her sincere acceptance, waited anxiously outside her fathers study to know if she would be the second of five daughters to wed.

Today, the day before her sisters wedding, Mary was serenely happy. Her engagement had come as a shock, but was largely ignored after a couple days to focus on Lizzie's wedding, which was all the same to Mary.

She turned around at the sound of someone entering the church and smiled a smile only ever seen by Jebediah Kingsington.

())}-%-

Felicity gazed around her as she finally arrived at her new home in India.* The wildlife and flora was simply astounding, the heat was more than she had ever experienced and the children were so scarcely dressed her eyes grew wide with shock. She had ridden an elephant, an elephant!, as a way to get from her ship that had docked not an hour ago, to the doorstep of the classically English home. It was on this doorstep she stood, forgetting that she was supposed to knock on the door so that she could meet her new guardians, so to speak.

The sky, it was such a deep blue! Not a cloud could be seen, and everywhere she looked was vibrant colors; on the people, painted on homes, the plants, the birds, there was so much color it nearly gave her a headache.

Felicity jumped when the door opened to reveal an aged man with wrinkled smile lines and skin browned from years of sun exposure. He was English, but his clothing suggested otherwise.

"Ah, you must be the young girl George sent word about. Come in my dear," he said, opening the door, and regretfully she abandoned her observation of the strange Indian world to enter the home.

Her eyes were attracted to an ornate ivory sculpture of an elephant. It was so beautiful she was scared to even go near it. The man began prattling on about her. He understood she was here to study medicine with him, and he did not mind at all that she was a female (he frequently emphasized this). She was going to go with him and help tend the sick while learning of the Indian culture. Here she could become a midwife or beyond, and learn about the things she had been passionate about for years, but would never have been accepted in England.

A week later was her first medical visit outside of the village with the man, Robert Hallady. She rode an elephant once more, saw a lion and witnessed a successful birthing of twins.

Felicity would continue to study under Robert Hallady, joined by George Darcy in the years to come. When she was eighteen years old she delivered a child on her own for the first time, a year after that she fell in love with a young man practicing medicine as well. She had a daughter, whom she named Elizabeth. Elizabeth, her husband and medicine remained her greatest joys throughout life. Never once did she look back on her destitute life in England, except for to pay the expenses to move her mother to India with her, and write to her father as frequently as possible.

Felicity lived the rest of her days in everyway her namesake; happiness.

**A/N: So awwwwwh. I was going to write about Jane and Bingely, but I had no inspiration for it today. Maybe in time. Sorry it's a quickie, but I hope Mary and Felicity's story satisfy curiosity there. I hope to write about the wedding soonish. =)**


	28. The Wedding

**A/N: So like I've mentioned, I have no idea how these weddings went. I barely know how weddings go now a days, since I've only been to one about seven years ago. So bare with me, but yes, here is your long awaited chapter! =]**

**Oh, I just updated my profile with this:**

_**I got a twitter, if anyones interested. Its mainly for my own following use, but if for some reason someone wanted to follow me about my stories I'll tweet regularly or whatever thats called. KayleighhhNJ - My profile is a picture of Ariel. Classy :)**_

**If you're interested, let me know in my reviews. I know of a few authors who keep readers updated with their writing process, sneak peaks and whatnot. I figured if I got a twitter, why not offer? **

_The Wedding_

Elizabeth woke to the wondrous view of a rainbow on her wedding day. It was early morning, the sun just kissing the horizon and a light fog had descended on the country side. She slipped on a coat and walked outside barefoot. Since a child she had always loved the feeling of wet grass between her toes, and she felt no regret acting as such now. The rain must have stopped moments before she had awakened, because she could tell by the skies that Meryton was still captive beneath the dark rain clouds. The rainbow arched with perfect clarity, disappearing into said clouds. She watched it until it disappeared, the warm, humid breeze whipping her skirt about her knees and her toes still curling into the grass.

By the time she went back in the sun had traveled quite a bit into the sky. Lizzie only had two hours to get ready and make it to the church, as her mother so boisterously screeched at her as she climbed the stairs to her room. If Mrs. Bennet's nerves were haywire, they were nothing compared to Lizzie's. She had awaken feeling calm and serene, barely giving much thought to her wedding as she simply reveled in the sensations nature brought. Now her heart was erratic, her breathing shallow and gaze unfocused as she allowed Jane to help dress her and artfully arranged her hair.

Lizzie's wedding clothes were a traditional white, though she had added an emerald green sash to accentuate her eyes and pendant gifted from Darcy. Her mother must have pinched her cheeks a thousand time to add color, Lydia was more concerned about the very few officers who had been invited to the wedding (particularly new earl, ex colonel Fitzwilliam), and their opinion of _her. _As Lydia said, unless Darcy had died over night, Elizabeth was sure to have a husband, and no one should be so greedy as to ignore Lydia's uncertain outlook. Lydia was largely ignored however, even, surprisingly, by Mrs. Bennet. Mr. Bennet had suspiciously disappeared from the chaotic household of six females, supposedly to the church to 'make sure everything was in order.' Kitty stood in the back of the room admiring anything and everything from Lizzie herself, to how dashing Darcy was sure to look, to the décor. Mary was practicing her piano music for the breakfast.

Lizzie barely spoke, sharing a few exasperated glances with Jane. She attempted not to think of the fact that in little over an hour she would be Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy, that tonight she would not have to part from him, that tonight they would share a bed and kiss and—

"Lizzie! Oh Lizzie, do not be so dim. Your father has brought the carriage, we must make haste." Mrs. Bennet grasped Lizzie's hand and pulled rather harshly, earning protests from both Jane and Elizabeth. Lizzie had no choice but to stand and inspect herself once more in the mirror. She was not dressed adequately enough, she knew, to be introduced as Mrs. Darcy once she reached London with her future husband. Though she had never given thought to her looks, nor particularly cared about fashion, she was now extremely conscious that all the qualms Darcy had with marrying her before were still a problem, even if he did not specifically mind.

Lizzie picked up her three foot long train as she nearly sprinted down the stairs. Was it already time? She was certain she would have the opportunity to give a proper goodbye to her childhood home. Now, as she was ushered out of the door by a frantic mother and trailing sisters, she merely got the chance to glance about at the faded blue walls, her gaze oddly resting on a white vase she had never given much thought to. She turned around to watch her home depart, knowing she could not call it home anymore, but her mother insisted she be careful about her hair.

Elizabeth sighed, willing her heart not to beat so painfully, and hoping she would not pass out as she said her vows. Hoping not to draw attention, she placed her hand over her nearly healed wound, closing her eyes and exhaling slowly. A soft, warm hand enclosed over hers, Jane's worried words whispered into her ear, "Does it still pain you, Lizzie?"

She opened her eyes to gaze reassuringly at her elder sister, not sure if her expression was reassuring at all. "It is nothing Jane, do not fret so."

All too soon the carriage pulled up in front of the church, and Mrs. Bennet exited, followed by all four of Lizzie's sisters. A few moments later Mrs. Bennet opened the door and signaled that all was ready. Elizabeth was visibly shaking. She was not as scared as she had been all morning, now she was merely trembling with anticipation. All her fear only came with the thought that from this moment on she would travel into the unknown, though she was reassured William would be by her side, gently guiding her.

Mr. Bennet did not immediately escort his daughter into the church, however. He paused in front of the slightly ajar doors, Lizzie noticing for the first time his sad countenance.

"Papa…." She said quietly, taking his hand in hers.

Her father leaned forward to kiss her forehead. "Of all my daughters, I hate to lose you most Lizzie. I had long hoped you would be the last to marry, but alas…."

"I'll miss you too, papa," she assured him, blinking back tears.

He smiled a little at her. "Now I shall have to brave the silliness alone, since Jane will assuredly marry Mr. Bingley, and even Mary…"

Elizabeth had a sudden vision of her father alone with her mother, Lydia and Kitty. She could not help but take pity on her poor father, and decided she would invite him to Pemberley as soon as possible.

"I love you Lizzie," he told her, taking the hand holding his and tucking it into his arm. "Now, shall we?"

Elizabeth smiled as her father pushed open the doors, a traditional canon starting up. With her first few steps her view of the front was obstructed, and she was sure her heart would fail. However, seeing Mr. Darcy standing at the front, eagerly awaiting for her was almost too much to bare, and as she was oft to do in these types of situations, she let out a small laugh. Williams face was of his stoney mask he wore in public, but his eyes were bright with happiness, and his lips were twitching, fighting his instinct to appear passive. She doubted anyone but she detected this, thought that could easily be a result of the fact that all eyes were on her. From all around her, friends smiled. The Collins's were present, the Lucas's, the Bingely's of course, along with her many acquaintances from town. Richard was there, wearing the lightest acceptable mourning colors possible (Darcy had informed her of his cousin's passing the night before), and even Lady Anne DeBourgh was there, though her mother was conspicuously absent.

None of these people Elizabeth saw, however. She heard no music, smelt no flowers. She just stared unashamedly at Mr. Darcy, until she realized her father was handing him her hand. She spared a glance for Mr. Bennet, but as soon as her hand made contact with Darcy's, she resumed looking at him. He was dashing as ever, though later she could never recall what he was wearing, only the expression of barely suppressed joy on his face as the man presiding over the ceremony said the tell-tale words, "Dearly beloved: We have come together in the presence of God to witness and bless the joining together of this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony."

She was in another place, unhearing of the man's words until it came time for someone to speak against their union, and thankfully no one did. Or, as would be most appropriate, thankfully Lady Catherine was not present. They said their traditional vows, and when Darcy slid the ring onto her finger, he took her fingers into his hand and squeezed them, and she returned the gesture, knowing what words will come next, words that will forever change her life.

If her heart had been racing before, it was now at a full gallop, lodged in her throat and felt all the way through to the pit of her stomach. "I, Fitzwilliam Darcy, take thee, Elizabeth Bennet, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, for fairer or fouler, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us depart, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereunto I grant thee my troth."

Elizabeth blinked back tears, took a deep breath and repeated nearly the same words.

"I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy, husband and wife." And just like that, she exhaled, biting her lip. William's smile had won in the end, and he gazed lovingly at her with unrepressed ecstasy, bringing both hands to his lips, and she could have sworn she saw him saw "Mrs. Darcy," though she would never know unless she asked him. The noise in the church was nearly deafening.

She tucked her arm into her new husbands arm, for the first time as Mrs. Darcy, and walked back outside of the church slowly, accepting congratulatory exclamations with grace and pride.

**A/N: I really wanted to make this a long chapter, but I don't get much time to write anymore, unfortunately. Too many distractions, and school, and my track season just started. I'll update ASAP! **

**Reviews are much appreciated =]**


	29. UPDATE 2

Oh my goodness it has been far too long  
now before you get your hopes up, this is not an update :(  
I'm merely here to say that I am extremely sorry for not updating in *gasp* over a year. I love this story, and I loved writing it. I just got caught up in college and, I'm afraid to admit, I kind of forgot about it. But it has crossed my mind from time to time and I do have an entire 'part II' if you will, planned out. Involving the heinous Mr. Wicham and possibly Mr. Darcy becoming Sir Darcy.  
However I find I do not have the time at the moment. I plan on returning to this when I finish my summer class on august 2nd. That's only 5 days away (I cannot wait to have a life again. I strongly advise against taking microbiology over the summer)!  
I am going to- hang on- I just set a reminder on my phone for friday telling myself to start the next chapter. I cannot decide if it will be on Mr. Wicham (I have this chapter nearly done already, but its on my old laptop. So if I can get the stupid thing to turn on, thats what I'm putting up) or the honey moon. But there will be a honeymoon scene!  
And thats all I have to say here, except to thank you all for reading this story. If you were following it over a year ago and have returned, thank you soooooo much you're like my favorite person. I was astounded by the amount of reads and favorites and reviews I had in the beginning, and I'm even more astounded by the ones that are still appearing in my inbox. You are all amazing, and I definitely feel as if I owe it to you all to try and finish this story out. I know what it feels like to wait for a review for over a year (see Commentarious by BC Dailey. Incredible James and Lily Potter story) so if you're frustrated with me, I feel ya  
Thank you all again,  
Kayleigh


	30. Newlyweds

**AN: AS PROMISED! Idk if it matches the whole story's general tone. Its been a while you know. But I read the last few chapters and tried. This is my first anything in a while, so bare with me. seriously, LET ME KNOW what you think is different or what I could've done better This chapter is a bit more background and narrative but I think thats due. **  
**And see if you can spot the character I got inspiration from Mad Eye Moody from lol. Shouldn't be too hard**

**Oh, and I'm bumping this story up to 'M' because of a small portion of this chapter. It really isn't as descriptive as I could've gone. I kinda feel like anything to raunchy defeats the point of an austen story. But I'm also a sucker for it and so here it is. Its italicized (you'll obviously see why) if you want to skip it. I'm sure you'll get the point**

Newlyweds

_Miss Jane Bennet_  
_Longborne of Hertfordshire_  
_to _  
_Mrs Elizabeth Darcy_  
_Pemberley of Derbyshire_  
_November 2_

_Dearest Lizzie,_  
_I hope this letter finds you well, and that you are enjoying your time with your new husband. How odd it was for me to address to Mrs Elizabeth Darcy! Life at Longborne is so different without you here, and is especially strange with Mama fretting over Mary for once. However despite her attempts at being helpful, Mary's wedding planning is going smoothly. It will be so nice to see you again, as it has been almost two months! Only a fortnight lizzie, and i will have my beloved sister again, if only for a short while._

_This letter also comes with news I am sure you will be excited about. Mr Bingley has made me an offer and I accepted! Oh I am so happy Lizzie! Sure there is not a person alive as happy as I at the moment! Charles agreed that I should tell you before he informs Mr Darcy, as I know hearing the news from your husband and not I would distress you. We hope to be wed very soon, as our courtship has extended so long. Perhaps around christmas time or in January. _

_Caroline is making an effort to be welcoming to me, but her attempts do not seem to have any warmth. She does not approve, a fact at which Bingley scoffs at and tells me not to worry, and I believe she has fancied herself as the head of the household for so long, that she does not want the title taken away. Mrs. Hurst tries much harder than Caroline, as her husband has squandered nearly all his fortune and she knows very well that someday she will have to come to me for help. You know I do not like speaking ill of anyone, Lizzie, but our own younger sisters will be handful enough without having to tend to Bingley's older ones! So I shall hope for the best that Mr Hurst will be able to save something of his fortune. _

_I miss you dearly Lizzie, and I hope to hear from you soon, even if the letter arrives hours before you do! _

_Your dearest sister,_

_Jane._

Elizabeth Darcy set the letter from her sister down on her writing table. It was an elaborate piece of woodwork, set against a large window overlooking the beautiful garden in which her husband asked her, for the second time, to be his wife. It was one window in a set of three, all of which shed light on her shared parlor with her husband. His own desk was a few feet away, though currently empty.

Lizzie sighed after realizing she had been gazing at his desk longer than necessary. Two months into their marriage and already they had established a routine. Both would wake up and take breakfast in their parlor together, at a small round table perfect for two situated near the fireplace. After which they would sit at their writing desks and attend to letters or business that needed to be addressed. Occasionally they would not make it even that far into their morning…

She gazed fondly at the large rug situated near the fire as well.

However, this was the second morning into their marriage she had awaken alone. She had known why, of course. The master of Pemberley could not ignore his major tasks for more than two months, and she had half expected him to come to her and apologize profusely about needing to leave for a day or two, as he had. Despite not appreciating needing to be alone in such a large place for over a day, she told him that she would be okay, and he made sure she knew how much he loved her.

Shaking her head slightly, he forced her thoughts to move from WIlliam to her sister. Lizzie wondered at why the proposal had taken so long to happen, she'd been waiting for months to hear of it! Nevertheless she was ecstatic for Jane and could not wait to see her sister to be as happy as she is now.

Mary's wedding was in the next week, she and her husband would be departing for Hertfordshire upon his arrival home. He insisted that they, politely, decline her father's invitation to stay at Longborne, and instead stayed with Bingley at Netherfield, where they could have both privacy and quiet.

She moved into Darcy's bedroom, which she had unconventionally been using as her own as well. Her own bedchambers remained untouched all this time. Their marriage, being one of love and not convenience, was much more intimate than common. She shared a bed with her husband and enjoyed every moment of it. Even her first experience had not been entirely too bad. Uncomfortable of course, but ever diligent, Darcy had seen to her comfort and pleasure.

Considering the picture her mother had so gracefully painted in her minds eye of how the act would be, it was rather amazing in comparison.  
Lizzie had been extremely nervous, setting out for london the night of her wedding with William. As soon as they had left company and were alone in his carriage, and awkward silence fell between them as they both thought about what was to happen that night when they stopped for rest. They were quiet and whatever conversation was short and overly polite. It was strange to consider how passionate they had been all through their courtship, and at that moment the final act gave them both stage fright.

She had never asked her husband about his previous escapades, if he had had any. She knew through rumors that men of circumstance could very easily get favors of the physical nature when needed, and discretely. Though he never seemed like the type of person to squander those values on a hired women, he was nearly nine and twenty.

Arriving at the inn where they would be staying for the night had been a blur, and remained a blur in her memory. The infamous Darcy and his new bride being guests had nearly killed the owner of excitement. He was helpful to the point of excess, and the end of dinner came with a mix of thankfulness of leaving the man's presence, and fear of what was to come.

_A maid escorted her to her chambers, every appearance of conventionality being upheld by taking her own room. She numbly changed into her bed clothes, and placed a hand on her chest. It was not her old wound that was paining her, but the speed of her heart racing that made her stop to catch her breath. Her countenance in the mirror was that of a ghost, and she silently told herself that she had nothing to be worried about, that it was only William._

_A knock came at the door, and Elizabeth jumped quite violently. However it was only a maid checking one last time if she needed anything, at which she silently shook her head. When she was sure the young girl was gone, Lizzie moved to have a cup of water, but before it had touched her lips, the door opened again, but with no other sound but the worn hinges creaking softly. The hair on the back of her neck raised and she shivered slightly as she felt her new husband's gaze on the back of her neck. _

_She set the untouched water back on the table, and suddenly he was there with a hand running through her un-coifed tresses and it was as if he washed away all her fears. He was here and her irrational fear was gone. Elizabeth turned to face him and saw that he was smiling softly at her. _

_Taking both her hands in his, he brought them to his lips and kissed them gently. "I love you." _

_She smiled back at him. "I love you." she told him back, and now he was cupping her face with one hand, the other familiarly on her waist, though her clothes were much thinner now than she was accustomed to when he held her. Softly at first, his lips met hers and for a few moments they kissed, rekindling all the passion they had started many stolen moments before. Before she knew it, the kiss had deepened and both hands were on her waist, fisting the material of her night dress to pull her closer. Her hands slid up his chest to grasp the back of his neck and he moved to leave a blazing trail on her neck, whispering her name lovingly. _

_Somehow they had made it to her bed, and she had fallen backwards upon it, her husband not very far behind. She had forgotten how to think, and it could have been hours or years, but at some point he began removing her dress, pausing when she hesitated. No one had ever seen her naked aside from her family, and that was years ago. And so, to give her a little more time, he began undoing his own shirt, and she laughed at him a little when he fumbled in his barely contained haste. _

_Unable to restrain her curiosity, she began to help, and in moments she saw his bare chest for the first time. It was captivating, and he sighed a little and began to kiss her again as she ran her hands over him exploringly. Again he gently attempted to rid her of her own clothing and this time she relented. She trusted him completely, and at any rate she couldn't find much fight in her anymore. Her last vestiges of modesty were eventually gone, and bare skin met bare skin. _

_She did, however, regain some sense when he started nudging her legs apart. It was fear of the great pain she had been told of that stopped her however._

_"Lizzie," he whispered softly, and she met his eyes. She realized she could not avoid it forever, and she wanted to make him happy, and so she relented._

_It was painful at first, but whether it went away or the pleasure just overruled it, she didn't much care. Her wedding night turned out to be much, much better than she could have dreamed of. Content and wrapped up together, they drifted off in the early hours of the morning…_

Of course, even now her experiences with the marriage bed were different. As they learned about each other, it became more adventurous and passionate. Once or twice, she blushed to think of, they never even made it out of the garden.

Elizabeth was well aware that her marriage was much different from that of others. Though it was something she tried very hard not to think of, she knew her parent's had never had a relationship such as hers.

There was also the matter of finance that set her marriage apart from her parents. Lizzie entered her dressing area to select her outfit for the day amongst the multitude of dresses WIlliam had insisted on getting her. She was not sure if it had much to do with the fact that her own clothes had been far below that status quo expected of her new position in society, but more to the fact that he showed a surprising love of doting on her. She supposed it should have been expected considering all that he buys for Georgiana, but it still made her uncomfortable. Her dowery couldn't have paid for half of her new wardrobe.

Deciding on an emerald green piece, she reflected on her first outing in society as Mrs. Darcy. She'd fretted over all the misgivings Darcy himself had originally had about her. Though they may not be a concern to him anymore, others were certainly able to point out that he had married far below himself.

It had been a fairly quiet affair, but there was definite whispering occurring all around them. Darcy had become his usual stony self as happened while he was in public. However he kept a firm grip on her hand that was in the crook of his arm, and squeezed it reassuringly occasionally. No one dared say anything outright, as Darcy was extremely intimidating. She was proud to see she had done over most people, and the majority of those who disapproved were older women scandalized by anything younger than thirty years, single women who had hoped to snag Darcy at one point or another, and the mothers of those single women.

Though she still saw the whispering whenever they left Pemberly, which was not very often at this point, it was not too much of a bother. His family, aside from Lady Catherine, accepted her, and the household had been ecstatic to welcome a new mistress.

On the matter of Lady Catherine, she had not been heard from since the day before the wedding. It bothered Elizabeth that she should be the cause of a rift between aunt and nephew, but Darcy insisted that he didn't mind at all.

({}))-%-

Her day passed in a lazy manner. No word had come of or from her husband, and she took lunch alone that second day as well. Occasionally the staff would come to her with questions that she tried her very hardest to answer, and she had not yet managed to ruin anything, and so felt she should be doing okay. For the moment Darcy had her ordering dinners and tending to staffing issues, the rest was being overseen by Mrs Reynolds.

One of her favorite parts of living at Pemberley was the size of the grounds. And she had not much to fear venturing these because they were so vast and so well monitored. She ventured out about an hour after lunch, making her way toward the lake where she heard the sound of hoofs coming up the path. Trying not to get her hopes up, Elizabeth turned to see who it was.

Mr Darcy was riding full speed up the path, and only vaguely seeing her from the corner of his eye until he did a double take. Elizabeth was vaguely surprised his horse could turn that fast, but he was fast making his way towards her, jumping down before Agaue was fully stopped.  
"Lizzie!" His smile was large and wonderful. He took her in his arms as if he could not do it fast enough. Still out of break from his ride, he merely kissed the top of her head. "how I've missed you," he said quietly.

After a mostly silent reunion, they walked arm in arm, ague diligently following, back towards Pemberley. "What have I missed?" he inquired, and she went off on a long list of minor issues that came up here or there, the progress of Antigone, who had been moved to the Pemberley stables, and "Mr Bingley made an offer to Jane!"

Elizabeth said this as if she saved it for last on purpose, and excitement lit her eyes.

"I am extremely pleased to hear that. Took Charles long enough," he said laughingly, and Lizzie smiled her agreement. "We will be able to offer our personal congratulations in a few days time."

If possible, her grin grew larger and she leaned onto her husband's shoulder. "I cannot wait to see my family again. I have missed my father and Jane most profoundly. How is Colonel Fitzwilliam?"

"True to his word, he has pestered me as little as possible these past couple months. However thieves on his property necessitated my help. Otherwise he is managing quite well." A footman opened the doors for them and inside the house. Changing the topic, Darcy said "I hope you will not object, but Georgiana has expressed her utmost distaste for life in london, and so she and Uncle George will be returning to Pemberley. I'm afraid we've stretched out our grace period longer than most are willing to accept."

Though Elizabeth saw no issue with this, and was extremely excited to see her sister-in-law, and her charismatic uncle. Though her husband was her favorite to be around, he was no female as was Georgiana, or comedian as was George.

"One more night alone together then, my love." He whispered lovingly to her.

-%-{(()

The pub was run down and deplorable. George Wickham scowled as he took a seat on the very edge of a seat, looking around for this 'Mr Watson' he was to be meeting. Watson spoke of an extremely advantageous opportunity that required someone of Wickham's social skills, and Wickham's natural greed led him to agree. He would have requested a bit more of a clean atmosphere though.

The door momentarily opened with a loud creak, shedding a brief glimpse of light over the dusty bar at which he sat. A man who looked every bit the pirate Wickham had grown up hearing fantastical stories about limped in. His mouth was set at a scowling slant and his eyes darted around as if someone was to attack him at any moment. He wore a worn out hat that looked vaguely like a navel officer's, though most likely decades old.

He thumped over to wickham who was trying to decide if he should just leave, and asked in a low, gravely voice "You George Wickham?"  
A moments hesitation- "I am."

"I haven't much time lad. Are you sure you're trustworthy?"

"When it's in my best interest."

The man guffawed a bit. "Honesty, I like it. Well son, if you're willing to give up the next year or two of your life on the sea, then the rest of your life could be one of leisure. Money and women and a title. "

He merely peaked an eyebrow. "Two years on a ship? I am not sure if I quite like it."

"Lad, telling from your clothing, you're used to a life of luxury. The fact that you're here tells me luxury is evading you. Either you can continue living this way for the rest of your life, or live this way for just two more years."

They silently sized each other up, and Wickham grudgingly had to admit that this man was correct. Life had not happened the way he always thought it would. "Fine. What do I need to do?"

"Join the navy, find a wife, sign up for the Annabella's next trip to the Americas in February." He said, straight to the point.  
Ten minutes later George Wickham was walking out of the pub in Meryton and rounding the corner into the more civilized area of the small town. Joining the navy would be easy to do, it was finding a wife-

The piercing giggling of two girls walking by captured his attention, and Wickham smiled. Fate had a way of dealing him a sweet card.

"Miss Bennets!"


End file.
